BERKELEY 


THE  DIAMOND  KEY 

AND   HOW   THE   RAILWAY   HEBOES   WON   IT 


DON'T  SHUT   HER    OFF,    DlCK,"    HE    SHOUTED,    ';  DON'T  —  DON'T 

REVERSE  HER  !  "  — Page  302. 


THE   DIAMOND    KEY 


AND  HOW  THE  EAILWAY  HEEOES  WON  IT 


BY 


ALVAH    MILTON    KERR 

Author  of"  Young  Heroes  of  Wire  and  Rail,"  "Two 
Young  Inventors." 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

F.  B.  MASTERS,  POWER  O^M ALLEY,  EMLEN 

McCONNELL,  JA  Y  HAMBIDGE,  AND 

WILLIAM  J.  GLACKENS 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD    CO. 


LOAN  STACK 


Published,  March,  1907. 

COPYRIGHT,  1907,  BY  LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  Co. 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


THE  DIAMOKD  KEY 


Norfaooti 
Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mags.,  U.  S.  A. 


PS352I 
£137 


TO 


THE  PUREST,  GENTLEST,    AND  LARGEST  INFLUENCE 
AFFECTING  MT   LIFE 


147 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE 

IT  seems  both  desirable  and  the  part  of  cour 
tesy  to  state  that  the  larger  part  of  such 
matter  as  forms  the  printed  pages  of  this  book 
first  appeared  in  the  form  of  short  stories  in 
various  American  magazines.  However,  while 
the  chief  contents  of  the  book  were  thus  placed 
before  the  public  in  detached  portions,  its  com 
position  proceeds  from  conception  to  close  in 
sequence,  and  consonant  with  a  definite  plan 
entertained  by  the  author  from  the  beginning. 
Hence,  it  is  felt  that  no  inconsistency  is  pre 
sented  by  here  joining  the  several  portions  to 
gether  in  a  continuous  whole,  as  originally  pur 
posed.  The  periodicals  in  which  part  of  this 
narrative  of  heroic  deeds  appeared  as  fiction, 
are  McClure's  Magazine,  Collier's  Weekly,  Suc 
cess  Magazine,  Philadelphia  Saturday  Evening 

vii 


viii  AUTHOR'S    NOTE 

Post  and  the  Red  Book.  Both  the  publishers 
and  author  desire  to  acknowledge  courteous 
permission  from  the  editors  of  these  periodicals 
to  use  the  text,  and  with  it  several  illustrations 
appearing  originally  with  the  printed  matter. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.     OPENING  THE  THROTTLE 1 

II.  How  DREAMY  MEADOWS  WON          ...       14 

III.  FRECKLE  HOGAN'S  GRIT 42 

IV.  DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY    ....       75 
V.  THE  CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH          .         .         .     109 

VI.  THE  JOINING  OF  THE  BONNETS        .         .         •     152 

VII.     THE  MOUNTAIN'S  VOICE 172 

VIII.  THE  CAPTURE  OF  BEAUMONT   .         .        .         .211 

IX.  SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE         ....     249 

X.  THE  PRESIDENT'S  SON      .         .        .        •         .286 

XL  DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC        ....     331 


Diamond  Key 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  DON'T  SHUT  HER  OFF,  DlCK,"  HE  SHOUTED,  "  DON'T  — 

DON'T  REVERSE  HER  !  "  (Page  802)        .          Frontispiece 

PAGE 
HE    REMEMBERS    FINDING    THE    "  Y  "    SWITCH    AND 

BREAKING    THE    LOCK 37 

"  I  DON'T  SNEAK  ;  I  AIN'T  THAT  KIND  "  .  .48 

HE  PUT  A  SHAKING  HAND  ON  THE  KEY  ...  68 
MUGGINS  POURED  THE  OFFENDING  CONCOCTION  INTO 

THE  RECEPTACLE  « 82 

"  STOP  HER  !  HOLD  NUMBER  Two  !  "  THE  MUDDY  LIPS 

CRIED .        .    148 

HE  WAS  RACING  A  CYCLONE,  TRYING  TO  OUTRUN  DE 
STRUCTION  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  322 

"  I'LL  TRY  WITH  ALL  MY  MIGHT  TO  MAKE  IT  RIGHT," 

SAID  DlPPY  HUSKILY 345 


Diamond  Key 


THE   DIAMOND   KEY 

And  How  the  Railway  Heroes  Won  It 
CHAPTER   I 

OPENING   THE    THKOTTLE 

THIS  is  a  story  embodying  stories,  a  record 
of  deeds  of  signal  heroism  in  the  building 
and  operation  of  a  mountain  railroad.  Those 
who,  through  good  fortune,  foresight,  or  dar 
ing,  achieved  the  remarkable  things  here  told 
of  were  eight  young  men,  a  young  woman,  and 
a  child.  The  episodes,  some  of  them  well-nigh 
unbelievably  strange  and  dramatic,  fell,  quite 
naturally,  at  separate  intervals  of  time,  being 
related  to  each  other  only  in  the  fact  that  they 
are  part  of  the  history  of  a  particular  region 
and  a  single  great  enterprise. 

1 


2  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

True,  the  central  figure  in  each  drama  was, 
beautifully  and  not  unduly  we  believe,  honored 
and  decorated  after  a  fashion  common  to  them 
all,  which  welded  the  events  into  something  like 
a  whole.  At  least,  to  one  who  lived  through  the 
early  years  of  the  construction  and  operation 
of  the  Western  Central,  it  is  difficult  to  think 
of  the  bravery  of  Wadd  Hancock  in  the  wreck 
at  Puma  Point,  without  remembering,  also, 
how  Freckle  Hogan  saved  the  men  in  Tunnel 
13,  and  how  Dippy  Hamilton  won  at  Ball 
Bridge.  It  is  not  easy  to  recall  the  strange 
thing  done  by  Nectarine  Morgan  in  Blue  Basin, 
without  remembering  Euth  Patten's  "  nerve  " 
at  Placer,  and  Dreamy  Meadows 's  splendid 
feat  at  Muley  Gorge,  or  Park  Taylor's  part  in 
saving  the  burning  snow-sheds  on  Muley  Pass. 
When  looking  back  to  the  marvellous  way  in 
which  little  Muggins  Tarney  brought  salvation 
to  Queen's  Cove,  one  naturally  reverts,  also, 
to  Joey  Phillips 's  presence  of  mind  in  the 
threatened  train  collision  and  the  great  land- 


OPENING   THE    THROTTLE       3 

slide  at  Bonnet,  and  how  Clark  Sanborn  won 
repute  when  he  fired  the  engine  of  the  Fast 
Mail.  In  each  case  heroism  was  achieved,  even 
by  little  Muggins,  though  his  part  had  the 
color  of  a  miracle,  and  since  each  finally  wore 
the  Diamond  Key,  their  stories  seem  one  in 
character  and  memory,  if  not  in  place  and  time. 

We  train  despatchers  out  of  personal  regard 
for  him,  perhaps,  always  believed  that  the  Or 
der  of  the  Diamond  Key  had  origin  in  the  brain 
of  Chief  Despatcher  Manvell.  Being  a  man  of 
imagination  and  tender  moods,  it  seemed  prob 
able  and  natural  that  he  might  have  dropped 
the  charming  idea  in  Superintendent  Burke 's 
mind  when  discussing  feats  of  hardihood  or 
sacrifice  or  unusual  quickness  of  decision,  by 
employees  of  the  road. 

It  is  quite  possible,  too,  that  something  said 
by  President  Sanborn  may  have  served  as  the 
bud  from  which  the  pretty  notion  blossomed. 
"We  subordinates  never  really  knew.  However, 
to  Ames  Burke,  superintendent  and  general 


4  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

manager,  greatest  credit  was  given,  and  no 
doubt  justly,  for  it  was  lie  who,  with  pride  and 
enthusiasm,  always  pinned  the  decoration  upon 
the  hero  or  heroine,  and  praised  and  com 
mended  his  or  her  performance  in  the  name  of 
the  road.  It  was  Burke,  austere  and  exacting 
for  the  most  part,  but  singularly  tender  when 
touched  by  the  heroic  fidelity  of  others,  who 
gave  the  banquets  at  the  Lyon  House  in  Paley 
Fork  when,  from  time  to  time,  an  employee  had 
been  judged  worthy  of  the  Key.  It  was  he 
who  chose  a  small  key  of  gold  with  a  diamond 
at  its  centre  as  the  emblem  of  honor,  and  gave 
the  first  hero -banquet,  that  memorable  dinner 
to  Freckle  Hogan  and  Dreamy  Meadows,  when 
the  one  was  decorated  for  gallant  conduct  in 
the  astounding  mix-up  at  Tunnel  13,  and  the 
other  for  snatching  salvation  for  many  human 
lives  from  an  appalling  situation  at  Muley 
Gorge. 

Often  the  president,  with  some  of  the  direct 
ors  of  the  road,  sat  down  with  Burke  at  the 


OPENING    THE    THROTTLE       5 

banquets  which,  now  and  again,  graced  those 
years,  honoring  with  their  presence  those 
achievements  in  loyalty  to  duty  that,  somehow, 
made  us  all  seem  greater  and  better  men.  Al 
ways  Manvell,  our  chief,  and  old  Addicks,  mas 
ter  mechanic,  and  "  Yellow  "  Logan,  road- 
master,  and,  maybe,  Hoxie  and  a  couple  of  the 
despatchers  from  Manzano,  with  officials  from 
Denver,  and  as  many  conductors  and  engineers 
as  could  be  spared,  sat  down  at  those  notable 
feasts.  It  made  efficiency  in  caring  for  human 
lives  seem  a  supreme  and  splendid  thing. 

We  fancy  it  may  be  stated  with  certainty 
that  no  railroad  organization,  other  than  the 
Western  Central,  ever  had  a  decorated  band 
of  heroes.  Of  course,  from  the  host  of  persons 
engaged  in  operating  the  railroads  of  the 
world,  many  have  been  commended  and  pro 
moted  for  bravery  and  promptness  of  action. 
But  the  chief  officials  of  the  Western  Central 
conceived  it  both  wise  and  just  that  an  em 
ployee  who  had  brought  honor  to  himself  by 


6  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

heroic  service,  should  not  only  have  promotion 
but  also  a  badge  of  distinction  that  might  serve 
to  keep  the  inspiration  of  his  action  alive 
among  his  fellows. 

Small  in  numbers  as  was  this  quaint  little 
Order,  it  had  at  bottom  much  the  same  reasons 
for  being  as  lie  at  the  basis  of  the  world's 
great  brotherhoods.  Scorn  of  danger,  nobility 
in  personal  service,  hazarding  self  that  others 
might  live,  oftenest  won  the  Victoria  Cross,  the 
Garter,  or  the  emblem  of  the  Legion  of  Honor. 
It  was  for  the  same  causes  and  in  the  same 
spirit  that  Superintendent  Burke  decorated 
heroes  on  the  Western  Central.  Many  were 
praised  and  promoted ;  those  who,  in  his  opin 
ion,  rendered  a  supreme  service  to  their  fel 
lows,  received  the  Diamond  Key. 

The  Western  Central  ought  to  have  been 
called,  perhaps,  the  Mountain  Ribbon  or  the 
Cloud  Trail,  or  some  such  fanciful  name,  for 
it  flung  its  steel  threads  over  mountains  and, 
at  points,  was  sometimes  brushed  by  the  trail- 


OPENING    THE    THROTTLE       7 

ing  laces  of  the  sky.  Southwestward  from 
Denver  it  flowed,  for  a  mountain  railroad  track 
always  has  a  fluid  air,  lifting  and  falling  with 
the  ever  billowing  earth-waves  and  swaying  to 
and  fro  in  endless  curves.  That  the  reader 
may  intelligently  grasp  such  scenes  in  the  gen 
eral  drama  of  the  line  as  are  here  presented, 
it  may  be  well  to  take  to  the  trail  of  steel  and 
follow  it  swiftly  to  its  end. 

Passing  out  of  beautiful  Denver,  were  you 
in  the  cab,  say,  of  the  big  1206  or  the  mighty 
1300,  you  would  see  two  seemingly  endless 
streaks  of  iron  latticed  together  with  wooden 
ties,  rushing  toward  you.  As  you  watched,  the 
ties  would  blend  into  a  flowing  blur  and  become 
a  grayish  belt  that  sped  directly  at  you;  it 
might  presently  seem  a  ceaselessly  unrolling 
ribbon,  faintly  grosgrained  and  edged  with 
running  silver.  As  it  came  spinning  forward 
and  swept  under  the  devouring  wheels,  you 
would  observe  that  it  swerved  very  softly  to 
right  and  left  and  rose  and  fell  well-nigh  im- 


8  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

perceptibly,  for  you  would  be  flying  through 
an  almost  level  land,  with  vast  plains  upon 
your  left,  and  sharply  crenelated  mountains 
upon  your  right. 

As  you  sped,  not  pausing  anywhere  in  this 
first  flight  across  the  Central,  you  would  see 
pretty  towns  flash  by  you  and  houses  and  fields 
leaping  towards  the  rear,  and  would  at  once 
be  traversing  the  region  in  which  Clark  San- 
born  had  his  test  as  fireman.  When  you  had 
flown  some  forty  miles  you  would  dive  in  among 
foot-hills  and  the  ribbon  would  begin  to  ascend. 
There  you  would  pass  Barn  Butte,  where  heavy 
engines  lie  in  wait  to  help  push  trains  to  the 
summit,  but  you,  of  course,  would  not  need  any 
of  them. 

Upward  you  would  run,  mounting  the  unroll 
ing  ribbon  towards  the  spine  of  the  Cradle 
Range.  To  right  and  left  the  ribbon  would 
bend  and  loop  upon  the  towering  slopes,  the 
trail  always  comparatively  level,  yet  always 
rising.  Presently  the  ribbon  would  flow 


OPENING    THE    THROTTLE       9 

through  a  chaos  of  crags  and  sweep  you,  now 
and  again,  through  tunnels,  darksome,  gassy, 
clanging  embrasures  piercing  the  mountain 
ramparts.  Then  you  would  spin  across  the 
rocky  backbone  of  the  range  and  whirl  down 
the  swaying  ribbon,  flying  past  Placer,  where 
Euth  Patten  found  fame,  and  on  across  the 
Sandrill  Kiver,  and  away  around  the  base  of 
Silver  Mountain,  passing  Queen  Cove,  where 
Muggins  Tarney  cut  the  snowslide,  and  under 
the  walls  of  Puma  Point,  where  Wadd  Hancock 
defied  death,  and  onward  through  a  valley  to 
Paley  Fork,  the  chief  division  station. 

Out  of  Paley  Fork,  westward,  you  would 
next  burst,  heedless  of  officials,  hospital,  round 
house,  or  repair-shops,  and  follow  the  twinkling 
ribbon  down  a  long,  wavering  stream,  until 
you  drummed  across  the  steel  bridge  at  Muley 
Eiver.  There  you  would  enter  Dreamy  Mead 
ows 's  famous  region.  Upward  then  you  would 
wind  and  onward  over  Muley  Pass,  roaring 
through  twenty-eight  miles  of  snow-sheds,  and 


10  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

catching  glimpses  of  the  mountain  from  which 
Park  Taylor  and  his  mother  saw  the  mem 
orable  explosion  in  the  Long  House,  then  down 
ward  again  by  many  a  slope  and  curve  through 
Peace  Canyon,  past  Bonnet  in  the  Valley  of 
the  Peace,  where  Joey  Phillips 's  strange  story 
is  still  told,  and  onward  southwestward  to  the 
foot  of  the  Saddle  Bow  Range. 

There  you  would  glide  through  Three 
Plumes,  a  sort  of  half-way  station  on  the  long 
"West  End  Division.  Sweeping  through  the 
yards,  past  the  big  eating-house  and  ' i  helper  ' ; 
engines,  you  would  find  the  magic  ribbon  lift 
ing  you  across  woolly  streams,  around  cliffs, 
across  great  slopes,  upward  and  still  upward, 
until  you  clipped  across  the  summit  of  the 
tumbled  range  and  shot  downward,  dizzily  and 
by  many  a  tangent,  into  the  tortuous  canyon 
of  the  Little  Bear  Paw.  There  you  would  rush 
through  Tunnel  13,  made  historic  by  Freckle 
Hogan,  and,  flying  swiftly  along  the  ever  un 
winding  ribbon,  you  would  cross  a  long  trestle 


OPENING    THE    THROTTLE     11 

in  Blue  Basin,  glancing  in  wonder  at  Temple 
Mountain,  and,  for  the  moment  perhaps,  under 
standing  why  Nectarine  Morgan  here  found  his 
better  self;  then,  presently  you  would  strike 
the  Big  Bear  Paw  River,  and  leaping  across 
it  upon  Ball  Bridge,  where  Dippy  Hamilton 
did  his  magic,  you  would  spin  along  the  silver- 
edged  trail  down  the  Big  Bear  Paw  Valley, 
and,  at  last,  among  solemn  brown  mountains, 
would  find  Manzano  and  the  end  of  the  mar 
vellous  path. 

You  would  stand  in  Arizona  then,  and  would 
have  followed  the  gray  and  gleaming  track 
nearly  three  hundred  miles.  About  you  would 
lie  extensive  yards,  station  buildings,  a  round 
house,  and  repair-shops.  You  would  observe 
that  the  Western  Central  here  made  connec 
tions  with  a  great  transcontinental  railroad, 
and  would  realize  that  the  line  over  which  you 
had  come  so  speedily  formed  a  "  short  cut  " 
between  Denver  and  the  Central  West  and  the 


12  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

life  and  commerce  of  Southern  California  and 
the  sea. 

All  the  way  as  you  sped,  from  the  first  driven 
spike  in  Denver  to  the  last  in  Manzano,  you 
would  have  threaded  a  realm  of  beauty,  some 
times  terrible  in  grandeur,  sometimes  pastoral 
and  quiet.  All  the  way  you  would  have  caught 
glimpses  of  towns  as  you  flew,  most  of  them 
small,  some  of  them  clinging  to  mountainsides 
where  there  were  mines,  some  of  them  in  nar 
row  canyons,  some  in  sunny,  irrigated  valleys. 
Having  plunged  through  echoing  tunnels, 
wheeled  over  yawning  gorges,  spun  around 
soaring  crags,  and  swept  through  winding 
canyons,  you  would  probably  say : 

"  In  the  making  of  this  iron  trail  across  the 
ranges  many  perils  must  have  been  met,  trage 
dies  must  have  fallen ;  in  the  daily  and  nightly 
movement  of  freight  and  human  lives  along 
this  mountain  road,  after  its  completion,  dan 
gers  must  often  have  been  encountered  and 
strange  things  surely  must  have  occurred. " 


OPENING    THE    THROTTLE     13 

The  thought  would  have  been  natural  and 
fully  justified  by  facts.  Numerous  interesting 
things  befell  the  builders,  many  happenings 
worth  the  telling  followed,  but,  owing  to  the 
limit  of  these  pages,  only  the  more  conspicuous 
examples,  those  that  brought  the  chief  actors 
the  Diamond  Key,  are  here  narrated. 


CHAPTER  H 

HOW  DREAMY   MEADOWS   WON 

ADAM  LOGAN,  the  Terrible,  came  up  to 
the  Middle  Mountain  Division  from  the 
plains  country.  He  was  a  famous  construction- 
man.  Doubtless  Superintendent  Burke  ap 
pointed  him  General  Foreman  of  Excavation 
out  of  certain  hopes  that  had  birth  of  this  rep 
utation,  for  the  Western  Central  had  suffered 
unpleasant  periods  of  friction  and  delay  in  the 
course  of  its  construction. 

General  headquarters  and  the  despatcher's 
office  were  then  at  Paley  Fork,  at  the  west  end 
of  the  East  Division.  The  Middle  Division  was 
somewhat  over  half-completed,  the  bridges 
being  up  and  the  rails  down  well  up  the  Muley 
Pass,  while  the  West  Division  was  little  more 

14 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  15 

than  a  survey,  twisting  over  the  Saddle  Bow 
Eange  and  down  into  Arizona.  The  things 
that  were  being  done  by  brain  and  muscle  and 
giant  powder  and  dynamite  in  the  mountains 
of  Colorado,  during  those  days,  were  some 
thing  to  contemplate.  The  army  of  men  blast 
ing  and  breaking  a  way  for  the  Western  Cen 
tral  across  the  mountains  were  not  in  a  genteel 
business;  they  were  not  genteel  with  one  an 
other.  "  Yellow  "  Logan,  as  we  afterward 
called  him,  seemed  needed. 

When  he  came  into  the  general  office  at  Paley 
Fork,  we  stared  at  him.  He  looked  a  sort  of 
human  lion.  His  face  was  big  and  not  pretty 
to  look  at,  and  had  a  really  fearful  strength, 
his  beard  and  hair  in  color  were  very  like  a 
lion's  mane,  his  eyes  were  of  a  yellowish  cast, 
with  brown  striations  at  the  centre,  and  looked 
at  men  and  things  with  direct  and  merciless 
honesty.  He  did  not  always  understand  other 
men's  motives  and  claims,  but  so  far  as  he  con 
ceived  them  to  be  centred  in  right  he  tried  to 


16  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

be  just ;  beyond  that  men  and  their  wishes  had 
to  yield  or  break. 

Superintendent  Burke  started  to  "  look  him 
over  "  when  the  man  from  the  plains  sat  in 
front  of  him  in  the  general  office,  but  I  noted 
that  Burke 's  eyes  fell  and  that  Logan  looked 
the  superintendent  over  instead.  He  had  let 
ters  from  the  Kansas  Pacific,  and  when  Burke 
had  read  them  the  two  men  looked  at  each 
other. 

"  According  to  these  letters  you  seem  to  be 
about  the  sort  of  man  I've  been  hunting  for/' 
said  Burke.  "  How  long  have  you  been  on 
construction  work?  ' 

"  Fifteen  years." 

"  Where?  " 

11  On  the  Fort  Scott  &  Gulf,  on  the  Santa 
Fe,  and  lately  on  the  K.  P." 

"  Well,  I'd  like  to  have  you  go  out  to  the 
front  and  relieve  Foreman  Swayson.  He  seems 
to  be  having  more  or  less  trouble  with  the  Ital 
ians  and  Poles  that  are  on  excavation.  I  pre- 


HOW    DREAMY   WON  17 

sume  he  isn't  quite  firm  enough.  What  is  your 
method?  What  is  your  experience?  " 

' '  If  the  men  are  fairly  paid  and  have  decent 
camps,  then  they  ought  to  be  made  to  work  or 
get  out,  one  or  the  other.  Be  sure  you're  right, 
then  be  iron,  stick  like  death  when  it's  surely 
got  a  man,  that's  my  style.  A  whole  round-up 
of  men  hardly  ever  get  restless  of  themselves ; 
some  lazy  feller  among  'em  gets  to  kicking  and 
horning  and  the  herd  breaks.  My  doctrine  is 
to  find  that  feller  and  cut  him  out  of  the  bunch 
before  there's  a  stampede." 

The  superintendent  smiled.  "  I  like  your 
doctrine,"  he  said.  "  We  will  take  a  look  at 
the  line."  He  got  out  the  profiles,  and  they 
studied  them  and  talked.  The  next  day  they 
boarded  an  engine  and  went  over  the  tracks, 
and  at  the  end  of  the  week  Logan  went  out  to 
Muley  Pass  and  took  charge. 

Not  long  afterward  "Dreamy"  Meadows 
came  to  Paley  Fork  in  quest  of  a  job  —  Dreamy 
Meadows,  of  whom  every  one  on  the  Western 


18  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Central  ultimately  heard.  His  real  name  was 
Tennyson  Meadows,  but  because  of  his  eupho 
nious  name  and  wistful  quietude,  he  was  at 
once  dubbed  "  Dreamy, "  and  the  sobriquet 
stuck  to  him. 

Dreamy  was  a  tall,  thin  lad  with  a  big  head 
and  soft,  sleepy  brown  eyes.  He  had  a  fashion 
of  dropping  his  chin  on  his  hand  and  studying 
about  things  absent-mindedly,  and  of  looking 
long  at  scenes  and  objects  in  trance-like 
thought.  He  seemed  Yellow  Logan's  exact 
antithesis,  yet,  at  bottom,  he  was  not  wholly  so ; 
he  simply  had  not  yet  struck  his  natural  gait. 
Dreamers  have  been  the  world's  greatest  work 
ers  —  when  events  awakened  them ;  every  man 
who  has  influenced  human  destiny  at  one  time 
or  another  saw  visions. 

Dreamy  was  sent  out  to  take  charge  of  a 
movable  telegraph  station  on  Muley  Pass.  All 
along  the  Muley  and  up  over  the  Pass,  con 
struction  work  was  in  progress.  Logan's  head 
quarters  and  Dreamy 's  station  were  at  the 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  19 

same  point,  above  Muley  Gorge,  half-way  up 
the  Pass.  It  was  there  that  Dreamy  did  the 
deed  and  —  awoke. 

From  the  first,  Logan  did  not  approve  of 
the  new  operator ;  he  had  no  patience  for  slow, 
reflective  people,  and  Dreamy  was  surely  slow. 
We  despatchers  found  him  slow  on  the  wire, 
slow  even  in  handling  a  thing  so  swift  as  elec 
tricity.  However,  operators  who  cared  to  go 
out  on  such  work  were  not  so  plentiful  that  we 
could  afford  to  be  over-particular ;  besides,  we 
rather  liked  the  looks  of  Dreamy  when  he  was 
in  to  see  Burke.  Certainly  he  had  looked  clean 
and  honest. 

Dreamy 's  "  office  "  was  a  sheet-iron  shed, 
contrived  that  it  might  easily  be  taken  apart 
and  shifted  to  new  ground  if  necessary.  It 
stood  on  the  mountainside  where  there  was  a 
wide  excavation.  In  front  of  it  were  the  ter 
minal  of  the  rails  of  the  main  line,  and  two 
spur-tracks,  filled  usually  with  car-loads  of 
structural  iron  and  supplies.  Twenty  feet 


20  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

south  of  the  iron  shed  Muley  Gorge  opened 
downward  to  a  dizzy  depth.  At  the  bottom  of 
the  gorge,  nearly  five  hundred  feet  below,  the 
Muley  mumbled  and  frothed  over  the  rocks. 

Directly  after  he  took  command  of  the  work 
ing  forces,  Logan  had  a  small  howitzer  brought 
up  and  a  slug  with  a  heavy  wire  attached  was 
shot  across  the  gorge,  the  wire  being  fastened 
to  a  steel  cable.  Men  sent  across  the  river  at 
bridge  Number  18,  and  following  up  the  shore 
to  a  point  opposite  Logan's  headquarters, 
found  the  wire  and  drew  the  three  hundred 
feet  of  cable  over,  and  eventually  a  trolley  car 
rier  and  grapple  were  rigged  to  operate  upon 
it,  and  a  good  deal  of  cedar  timber  was  drawn 
across  for  use  in  construction.  This  cable  was 
of  signal  utility  in  Dreamy 's  famous  adventure. 

Westward  from  Muley  Point,  the  site  of 
Logan's  and  Dreamy 's  station,  hundreds  of 
men  were  working  in  cuts  and  on  fills,  mile 
after  mile  of  rugged  mountain  slopes  were 
being  bored  and  blasted  and  ripped  open  that 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  21 

the  panting  iron  monsters  might  find  a  path 
for  their  whirling  feet,  pick  and  shovel  and 
drill  and  scraper  and  mule  and  man  were  busy, 
and  the  Pass  trembled  almost  momentarily 
with  the  crash  and  reverberation  of  exploding 
dynamite.  Northeastward  from  the  Point  the 
track  fell  downward  like  a  looping  whip-lash, 
and,  following  the  Muley  in  a  long  detour,  came 
back  to  within  a  mile  of  the  Point  to  the  south 
eastward,  on  its  way  down  into  Muley  Valley. 
This  natural  loop  of  nearly  ten  miles  was  the 
main  means  of  lifting  trains  on  to  the  slopes 
of  the  Pass;  it  also  helped  to  save  "  Yellow  " 
Logan  and  one  hundred  and  forty  men  from 
annihilation. 

Looking  directly  southeast  from  Dreamy 's 
iron  shed,  the  eye  crossed  the  Muley  and  en 
countered  a  pine-covered  ridge;  on  the  other 
side  of  the  ridge  a  mile  distant  was  bridge 
Number  18,  where  the  Western  Central  track 
crossed  the  Muley  from  the  south  side  to  the 
north  and  took  the  ten-mile  loop  to  gain  the 


22  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

heights  at  Muley  Point.  Near  the  south  end 
of  bridge  Number  18  was  a  "Y"  switch. 
That  was  the  topographical  situation;  the 
human  situation  was  still  more  interesting. 

Dreamy  had  not  much  to  do  —  messages 
about  supplies  and  an  occasional  train  order. 
He  commonly,  therefore,  had  some  sort  of 
book  in  his  fist  on  which  he  pored,  or  sat  mist 
ily  gazing  at  the  beauty  of  the  mountain.  As 
for  the  new  General  Foreman,  he  seemed  every 
where  ;  his  keen  yellow  eyes  appeared  to  dwell 
hotly  on  every  man  and  object.  Work  went  at 
high  pressure  after  his  arrival,  and  there  was 
secret  sniffing  and  grunting,  but  all  along  the 
line  two  things  were  acknowledged.  Logan  was 
unsparing  of  his  own  strength,  and  the  food 
and  bedding  and  general  comforts  of  the  camps 
were  improved. 

Then  came  the  10th  of  August.  At  twelve 
o'clock  that  day  the  noon  silence  fell  upon  the 
mountains  and  remained ;  the  brawn  of  the  big 
hills  had  struck.  Logan  had  come  to  the  work 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  23 

in  May;  Dreamy  arrived  a  week  later.  For 
a  month  now  the  General  Foreman  had  been 
aware  that  a  sour  ferment  was  at  work,  for 
a  month  he  had  also  been  looking  for  the  one 
blamable  man,  but  could  not  locate  him.  The 
old  trouble,  temporarily  mended  by  Swayson 
and  Burke,  had  broken  out  afresh.  They  had 
rectified  several  things  complained  of  by  the 
men  and  had  found  means  of  getting  rid  of  the 
agitators.  But  on  the  10th  of  August  the  work 
stopped  again.  Logan  took  the  written  de 
mands  of  the  men  down  to  Burke,  but  the 
demands  were  pronounced  unreasonable  and 
were  flatly  refused.  Logan  returned,  both  in 
structed  and  determined  to  fight  the  matter  out. 
Through  several  days  there  was  dead  quiet 
on  Muley  Pass,  then  the  storm  broke.  Logan 
brought  in  fresh  men  and  attempted  to  set 
them  to  work,  but  the  strikers,  partly  by  force 
and  partly  by  persuasion,  influenced  the  men  to 
withdraw.  Then  Burke  and  the  General  Fore 
man  recruited  a  body  of  some  two  hundred 


24  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

workmen  of  American  birth,  and  strengthening 
them  with  a  sheriff  and  fifty  armed  deputies, 
started  for  the  Pass.  That  was  on  the  night  of 
the  22d  of  August. 

Now,  from  almost  the  first  Dreamy  Mead 
ows  had  known  which  man  was  the  chief  ' '  fer 
ment,"  in  which  head  throbbed  the  brain  that 
led  in  vibrating  the  discord.  The  man  was  an 
Italian,  a  pale  young  fellow,  who  spoke  English 
and  three  other  languages,  and  who  came  to 
visit  Dreamy  of  evenings  and  borrow  his  books. 
Had  the  young  Italian  made  speeches  and 
conducted  an  open  campaign,  Logan  would 
have  quickly  deposed  him,  and  so  probably 
would  have  made  an  end  of  the  trouble;  but 
Braconi,  who  seemed  a  master  of  logic  of  a  cer 
tain  sort  and  an  angel  of  persuasion,  worked 
secretly  from  man  to  man,  teaching  and  organ 
izing  at  night.  Dreamy,  being  aware  of  this, 
acknowledged  to  himself  that  he  ought  to  tell 
Logan,  but  the  lad  had  a  thorn  in  his  side,  and 
Logan  had  put  it  there.  Openly  and  with 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  25 

brutal  candor,  the  General  Foreman  had  pro 
nounced  Dreamy  the  laziest  man  on  the  moun 
tain,  and,  though  Dreamy  had  laughed  at  the 
stricture,  in  his  heart  he  was  sore. 

"  Let  him  take  care  of  his  trouble;  it's  not 
my  affair,"  said  Dreamy  to  himself;  and  so, 
because  Logan  had  been  inconsiderate,  Dreamy 
was  foolish  and  the  tempest  fell. 

After  the  strike  had  been  inaugurated, 
Dreamy  told  Logan  what  he  knew  of  Braconi. 
To  do  so  tickled  an  unworthy  prompting  in  the 
youth.  Logan's  anger  was  something  to  see. 
He  at  once  wrote  a  telegram  to  Burke  saying 
that  the  Muley  Point  operator  had  been  dis 
loyal  and  to  send  another  operator  immedi 
ately.  Dreamy  sent  the  message  without 
change  of  countenance  and  with  an  alacrity 
quite  unusual.  But  Burke  did  not  send  another 
telegraph  operator  to  Muley  Point,  for  the 
very  good  reason  that  no  operator  could  be 
persuaded  to  go  up  into  that  human  hornet 's- 
nest.  It  presently  got  over -warm  for  Dreamy. 


26  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Logan,  following  Dreamy 's  revengeful  hint, 
unearthed  several  things.  He  promptly  had 
Braconi  and  two  other  men  arrested  and 
"  taken  below,"  as  going  down  to  Paley  Fork 
was  called.  The  resistance  at  the  Pass  aug 
mented  rather  than  decreased,  however. 
Dreamy  himself  fell  foul  of  the  strikers ;  they 
began  to  suspect  him  of  sending  reports  "  be 
low  "  inimical  to  their  interests.  On  August 
21st,  the  day  before  Logan  and  Burke  were 
going  to  attempt  to  land  American  workmen 
on  the  Pass,  a  group  of  strikers  captured 
Dreamy  and  the  Muley  Point  headquarters. 

Matters  were  bitter.  A  piece  of  writing  was 
placed  before  Dreamy  on  the  telegraph  table, 
a  pistol  was  put  to  his  head,  and  he  was  or 
dered  to  wire  the  writing  down  to  us  at  general 
headquarters.  Dreamy  promptly  acquiesced, 
but  added,  without  pause,  at  the  end  of  the 
message:  "  A  pistol  is  at  my  temple  and  an 
extremely  ugly  gentleman  is  holding  it,  but 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  27 

most  of  this  message  is  a  lie.  Tell  Logan  the 
Terrible  to  come  ahead." 

We  liked  Dreamy  for  that.  For  a  week  we 
had  expected  that  he  would  desert  his  post  and 
come  down  to  Paley  Fork  if  he  had  to  come 
afoot.  But  he  stuck  to  the  hornet 's-nest  like  a 
plaster. 

When  Dreamy  volunteered  that  odd  post 
script  to  the  message  of  the  strikers,  he  had 
counted  on  there  being  no  one  present  besides 
himself  who  could  read  Morse,  but  one  of  the 
"  committee  "  could  read  the  telegraph  a  little 
and  Dreamy  came  near  losing  his  life.  How 
ever,  he  escaped  up  the  mountainside  and  se 
creted  himself.  That  night  about  midnight  he 
came  down  the  mountain  and  crept  into  the 
iron  shed  on  his  hands  and  knees  and  called.  I 
was  at  the  despatcher's  table  down  in  Paley 
Fork  and  answered  him. 

"  Where  have  you  been  and  what's  the  sit 
uation?  "  I  asked. 

"  Been  lying  on  my  stomach  up  among  the 


28  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

— ^ 

chaparral  for  the  last  ten  hours,"  he  said. 
' '  Situation  is  rocky.  They  got  on  to  my  Morse 
and  I  had  to  duck.  Mostjof  J;he  mer^Jiere  at 
the  Point  are  quiet;  they'd  be  0.  K.  if  let  alone, 
but  there's  fifteen  or  twenty  mighty  bad  ones 
here  —  regular  reds  —  looks  like  dynamite." 

I  experienced  a  queer  thrill  of  frost  along 
my  spine.  "  Where  is  that  car-load  of  dyna 
mite  that  was  sent  up  there  on  almost  the 
last  train  of  supplies  before  the  strike?  '  I 
asked. 

"  Here  on  the  siding.  I've  had  my  eye  on 
it  lately;  struck  me  they  might  take  a  notion 
to  do  some  damage  —  blow  up  the  bridge  or 
something  —  to  keep  Yellow  and  his  men  away. 
But  I  guess  it  will  be  O.K.;  don't  think  they 
will  go  so  far  as  that." 

"  Are  they  drinking  much?  " 

"  Most  of  them  are  quiet,  some  are  boozing 
like  sailors.  Where  is  Yellow  and  the  old 
man?  r 

"  Both  are  here;  Logan  got  in  to-night  with 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  29 

a  lot  of  men  from  Denver.  He  and  the  super 
intendent  will  take  the  men  up  to  the  Pass 
to-morrow  night;  get  there  about  midnight 
or  one  o'clock;  sheriff  and  fifty  shooters.  Can 
you  stay  on  hand  now?  ' 

"  Nixy;  it's  me  back  to  the  brush  and  soli 
tude.  I'm  about  starved  and  don't  know  when 
I'll  eat.  Oh,  for  a  pie !  Say,  I'll  wriggle  down 
to  this  coop  to-morrow  night,  if  they  don't  get 
me,  and  call  you  up  and  give  you  the  statu  quo. 
I'm  uneasy  about  the  nitro.  Say,  there's  a  fel 
low  among  the  reds  here  who  understands 
Morse,  I  think.  If  any  swift  operator  gets  on 
the  wire  and  begins  to  tell  you  fairy  stories 
about  things  here,  you'll  know  it's  not  me. 
Say,  give  my  love  to  old  yellow-eyes  and  tell 
him  I'm  not  mad.  I'll  have  to  creep  out  of 
here  on  my  solar  plexus ;  I  hear  some  reds  out 
on  the  track." 

Dreamy  was  certainly  waking  up.  He  was 
becoming  a  creature  of  action.  I  smiled  when 
I  thought  of  Logan's  demand  for  his  removal 


30  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

on  the  ground  of  disloyalty.  On  the  morrow 
we  tried  many  times  to  "  raise  "  Muley  Point 
on  the  wire,  but  the  Point  was  silent.  At  10.30 
that  night,  Logan,  with  a  train  of  twenty-seven 
flat  cars  loaded  with  men  and  drawn  by  two 
engines,  pulled  out  for  the  Pass ;  an  hour  later 
Burke  followed  with  another  train-load  of 
men. 

Just  before  midnight,  as  I  bent  over  the 
train-sheet  in  Paley  Fork,  a  hurried,  unsteady 
call  came  down  from  Muley  Point,  forty  miles 
away.  I  had  my  ear  cocked  for  Dreamy  and 
hit  the  wire  quick  in  response. 

"  Who  is  at  the  key?  "  I  asked. 

"  Dreamy.    Say,  but  I'm  hungry!  " 

"  Yes?    How  are  things?  " 

"  Nawsty.  Most  of  the  men  want  peace;  the 
boozers  and  soreheads  tried  this  P.  M.  to  mar 
shal  'em  to  resist  Yellow  when  he  arrives. 
From  my  lair  among  the  chaparral  I  looked 
down  on  some  pretty  fights.  A  hand-car  of 
sympathizers  arrived  from  below  about  an 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  31 

hour  ago.  I  crept  down  and  lay  in  a  dark 
place  and  listened.  Looks  like  some  sort  of 
trouble.  IVe  kept  my  optics  pasted  to  the  car 
of  nitro.  I  don't  think  they  know  the  car  has 
dynamite  in  it. ' ' 

"  Bridge  18  must  be  all  right?  " 

"  Yep;  hand-car  came  across." 

"  Well,  keep  me  posted  if  you  can.  I  think 
things  will  turn  out  all  right." 

But  they  did  not;  save  for  Dreamy  they 
would  have  gone  badly  indeed.  When  he 
crawled  out  of  the  telegraph  shed  and  crept 
away  in  the  gloom,  a  turbulent  group  of  men 
were  replenishing  a  fire  with  ties  some  five  hun 
dred  feet  west  of  the  office.  Dreamy  crept  in 
close  and  looked  and  listened.  Braconi  and  the 
two  other  men  who  had  suffered  arrest  were 
there.  Having  been  liberated  on  account  of 
lack  of  incriminating  evidence,  they  had  stolen 
a  hand-car  down  at  Paley  Fork  and  had  come 
to  the  Pass.  Being  infuriated  with  Logan, 
they  brought  an  exaggerated  story  of  the  inju- 


32  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ries  and  indignities  that  were  to  be  rained  on 
the  disaffected  at  Muley  Point,  and  counselled 
extreme  measures  of  resistance. 

Most  of  the  talk  was  Italian,  and  Dreamy 
could  not  understand  it,  but  he  made  out  from 
Braconi's  speeches,  which  were  partly  in  Eng 
lish,  that  the  young  leader  favored  running 
some  of  the  cars  from  one  of  the  sidings  down 
on  to  the  main  track  and  chaining  the  wheels 
fast  to  the  rails.  He  also  advised  building  a 
barricade  on  each  side  of  these  cars  in  the  cut, 
thus  bringing  Logan  to  a  standstill,  where  they 
might  possibly  force  him  to  a  compromise  set 
tlement  before  he  got  the  new  men  and  the 
"  soldiers  "  into  the  works. 

Dreamy  crept  back  to  the  shed  and  reported 
this  to  me  by  wire.  Just  before  he  called  me, 
Green  Elbow,  a  telegraph  station  six  miles  east 
of  bridge  Number  18,  reported  Logan  going 
west.  There  was  no  telegraph  operator  be 
tween  the  Elbow  and  Muley  Point.  As  Dreamy 
crawled  out  of  the  iron  shed,  after  reporting 


HOW    DREAMY    WON  33 

to  me,  he  jumped  to  his  feet  with  a  yell  of 
terror.  A  switch  had  been  opened  and  six  cars 
were  passing  down  the  main  track.  A  clear 
half-moon  threw  a  silvery  radiance  on  the 
mountains,  and  he  saw  that  the  two  front  cars, 
a  box  car  carrying  twelve  thousand  pounds  of 
dynamite  and  a  flat  car  loaded  with  structural 
iron,  were  uncoupled  from  the  others  and  leav 
ing  them  behind.  A  man  was  walking  forward 
on  top  of  the  rear  cars  setting  the  brakes.  He 
came  to  the  front  end  of  the  fourth  car  almost 
at  the  moment  Dreamy  cried  out,  and  he,  too, 
yelled  with  consternation.  Some  men  were 
walking  down  the  track  after  the  cars,  and  a 
wild  effort  was  made  to  catch  the  two  runa 
ways.  Dreamy  leaped  forward  screaming: 
"  There's  dynamite  in  that  front  car!  Catch 
them!  Hold  them,  for  God's  sake,  men!  "  but 
the  runaways  went  down  the  steep  grade  into 
the  gloom  like  frightened  snakes. 

Dreamy  stopped  running  some  two  hundred 
feet  east  of  the  telegraph  shed.    Like  a  great 


34  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

and  fearful  sheet  of  flame,  that  which  was 
likely  to  happen  flashed  across  his  soul.  When 
that  down-shooting  car  of  nitro-glycerine 
hurled  itself  into  Logan's  train,  when  the  steel 
beams  on  the  second  car  drove  through  the  dy 
namite  car  in  the  collision !  —  he  cried  out  in 
utter  terror  of  the  vision.  The  shore-end  of  the 
cable  that  hung  across  the  mighty  chasm  of 
the  Muley  was  not  a  dozen  yards  from  him.  As 
he  turned  about,  his  eyes  fell  upon  it.  Beyond 
the  yawning  gorge,  beyond  the  black  mass  of 
the  forest-covered  ridge,  a  mile  away,  lay  the 
"  Y  "  switch!  A  light  flashed  into  his  face, 
a  gleam  of  something  high  and  strange,  and 
almost  in  the  time  that  it  took  to  draw  a  breath 
he  had  reached  the  cable. 

In  the  moonlight  it  stretched  far  across  the 
abyss  like  a  silver  thread,  dwindling  in  the 
shadows  of  the  south  shore  to  something  that 
looked  very  like  a  strand  of  gossamer.  The 
wheeled  carrier,  with  its  down-dangling  grap 
pling-irons,  hung  upon  the  cable;  a  small  wire 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  35 

rope,  attached  to  the  carrier  and  winding  upon 
a  windlassed  drum  in  drawing  the  loads  across 
from  the  opposite  shore,  hung  at  his  side.  He 
threw  the  brake  off  the  drum,  leaped  up,  and 
caught  the  grappling-hooks  in  his  hands  and 
shot  out  along  the  cable. 
The  south  end  of  the  cable  was  the  lower,  )L^ 

that  the  carrier  might  cross  by  its  own  weight. 

/    ' 
With    Dreamy 's    weight    added,    the    carrier 

4 

fairly  flew.  Hanging  there  by  his  hands  above 
the  great  abyss,  he  got  a  glimpse  of  stars  and 
moon  whirling  together  above  him,  of  the  Mu- 
ley  boiling  white  far  below,  and  felt  the  night 
air  rushing  against  his  face  and  heard  wheels 
burring  in  his  ears;  then  suddenly  he  was 
thrown  headlong  to  the  earth  on  the  south 
shore.  The  carrier  had  struck  the  bunting-post 
at  the  end  of  the  cable. 

Instantly  he  leaped  to  his  feet  and  made  for 
the  summit  of  the  ridge.  Everything  that  he 
did  seemed  somehow  terribly  clear. 

He  knew  that  Logan's  train  had  left  Green 


36  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Elbow,  for  I  had  told  him  so;  hence  when  he 
shot  across  Muley  Gorge  on  the  cable  the  train- 
load  of  men  must  have  been  some  four  and  a 
half  miles  below  the  "  Y,"  while  the  two  run 
away  cars  had  some  nine  miles  to  pass  over 
before  reaching  it,  and  he  himself  a  mile. 
Logan  would  come  rather  slowly,  owing  to  the 
grade,  while  the  car  of  dynamite  and  the  car 
of  iron  must  necessarily  attain  enormous  speed 
in  passing  down  the  mountain.  Could  he  reach 
the  "  Y  '  before  the  runaways  passed  it? 
That  was  the  question  that  something  in  him 
constantly  shouted  as  he  went  up  the  slope, 
across  the  spine  of  the  ridge,  and  down  the 
other  side,  springing  over  rocks,  clambering  up 
ledges,  jumping  down  banks,  and  over  fallen 
tree-trunks,  falling  and  struggling  up  and  rush 
ing  onward  heedlessly  and  blindly  through  the 
moonlit  gloom. 

He  seemed  to  have  been  many  days  in  going 
that  fearful  mile,  and  his  throat  seemed  as  a 
pinhole  through  which  he  could  get  no  breath, 


HE    REMEMBERS    FINDING    THE    "Y"    SWITCH    AND   BREAKING 

THE  LOCK.  —  Page  37. 


HOW    DREAMY    WON  37 

and  his  pulses  bursting  when  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  bridge  below  him.  He  turned 
to  the  right  then  and  went  downward  in  reck 
less  leaps.  Suddenly  he  came  to  a  little  preci 
pice  and  paused,  and  as  he  paused  he  heard  a 
clamorous  roar  flooding  down  the  Muley  from 
the  northwest  and  the  faint  whistle  of  a  loco 
motive  far  down  the  track. 

From  that  moment  he  lived  in  a  kind  of  in 
sane  panic.  Of  just  how  he  got  down  the  ledge 
he  now  has  no  clear  notion.  He  remembers 
finding  himself  on  the  ground  half-killed,  and 
scrambling  up  and  rushing  forward  with 
strange  moving  things  all  about  him,  find 
ing  the  "  Y  "  switch  and  breaking  the  lock 
with  a  stone  or  piece  of  iron  —  he  does  not 
know  which  —  and  throwing  the  rails  over, 
and  then  running  blindly  toward  the  ridge 
again.  He  remembers  that  as  he  ran  the  earth 
seemed  to  rise  and  strike  him  in  the  face,  and 
that  he  then  seemed  floating  as  upon  billows, 
and  that  something  encompassed  in  thunder 


38  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

rushed  across  the  bridge  while  the  bridge 
reeled  and  shrieked,  and  that  the  thunder  swept 
down  the  track  and  out  over  the  five  hundred 
feet  of  "  Y  "  rails  and  smote  the  rocky  hill 
side  beyond,  and  that  the  world  then  seemed 
suddenly  to  crush  into  pieces  and  the  sky  to  fall 
down  upon  him,  with  a  thousand  stunning  mar 
vels  of  noise,  and  with  it  a  great  blackness  that 
blotted  him  utterly  out. 

The  windows  rattled  in  Paley  Fork  from  the 
jar  of  the  explosion,  and  that  was  forty  miles 
away.  A  million  bellowing  echoes  went  abroad 
over  the  mountains,  and  all  along  the  Pass 
men  clutched  their  breath  and  stood  still.  Had 
Logan  and  all  his  men  been  destroyed?  Sud 
denly  every  heart  was  hushed  and  soft  with 
pity.  Dreamy  had  broken  the  strike ! 

Logan  —  who  could  not  get  his  train  across 
the  bridge,  the  structure  having  been  thrown 
out  of  line  by  the  impact  of  the  runaway  cars 
or  concussion  from  the  explosion  —  found 
Dreamy  at  daybreak.  The  lad  was  in  sad 


HOW   DREAMY   WON  39 

plight,  being  deaf  and  dazed  and  discolored  by 
the  mighty  wave  of  sound  that  had  swept 
across  him ;  besides,  he  had  a  pair  of  fractured 
ribs,  gotten  somewhere  in  his  wild  run  for  the 
switch.  Logan  the  Terrible  brought  him  at 
once  to  the  hospital  at  Paley  Fork. 

"  The  strike  and  the  work  can  wait/'  he 
said;  "  I  don't  get  a  chance  to  serve  a  real 
live  king  very  often !  ' ' 

But  the  hole  in  the  earth  where  the  dynamite 
exploded!  We  went  up  from  the  despatcher's 
office  to  see  it.  A  house  could  have  been  thrown 
into  the  rupture  and  not  half-filled  it.  Odd 
things  grew  out  of  that  hole.  One  day  Yellow 
Logan,  with  a  mysterious  look  on  his  big  face, 
went  into  the  hospital  at  Paley  Fork  and  drew 
a  chair  up  to  Dreamy 's  bed.  Dreamy  had  re 
gained  his  hearing  and  was  feeling  nice  and 
new. 

"  Hello,  Terrible  Man!  "  he  said  with  wel^ 
coming  smile. 

Logan  got  his  hand  and  drew  up  close  to 


40  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

him  and  began  to  whisper.  "  Say,  son,  I  want 
to  tell  ye  something.  That  hole  you  blowed  in 
the  mountain  up  there  is  a  quarry  of  the  finest 
stone  ye  ever  saw!  The  Government  grant  of 
land  t'  the  company  gives  'em  only  every  other 
section.  I've  bought  the  section  the  quarry 
is  on  in  your  name  for  ye.  I've  got  some 
papers  here  for  ye  t '  sign.  Burke  says  the  com- 

V.X          Mr 

pany  will  use  the  stone  in  depots  and  its  fine 
work  and  pay  ye  a  royalty;  besides,  I  expect 
people  in  Denver  and  Pueblo  will  want  the 
stone.  Y'r  in  it  sure,  son!  "  His  great  face 
was  radiant  with  smiles  as  he  leaned  over  the 
convalescent.  Dreamy  took  his  hand  and 
looked  at  him  with  misty  eyes  for  a  long  time. 
"  You  say  you  bought  the  land  in  my  name 
and  you  think  the  quarry  is  going  to  be  valu 
able?  "  he  said. 

"  Sure,  son,  sure!  " 

"  Then  I  give  you  half  of  it." 

This  is  how  Dreamy  and  Logan  came  to  own 
the  valuable  Muley  Quarry,  though  both  con- 


HOW   DREAMY   WON 


41 


tinued  their  railroad  work,  and,  what  was  ap 
parently  still  more  highly  appreciated  by 
Dreamy,  his  promptness  and  bravery  won  him 
the  Diamond  Key. 


CHAPTER 

FEECKLE  HOGAN'S  GRIT 

"TF  it  is  true,  as  some  assert,  that  oppor- 
J-  tunity  is  half  of  greatness,  is  it  not  also 
true  that  good  environment  is  half  of  right 
eousness!  We  build  ourselves,  mentally  and 
physically,  out  of  our  surroundings;  we  are 
forced  to  use  the  material  that  lies  nearest; 
we  naturally  absorb  that  which  lies  against  us. 
Suppose  one  does  go  wrong?  Why  should  we 
coddle  the  physically  sick  and  kick  and  punish 
the  spiritually  ill?  "  Chief  Despatcher  Man- 
vell  looked  at  Superintendent  Burke  in  his 
kind,  earnest  way.  Burke  puckered  his  bearded 
lips,  lifted  his  shaggy  brows,  and  waited. 

Manvell  sat  just  inside  the  big  arch  of  the 
alcove  room.  Outside  the  arch  was  an  apart 
ment  forty  feet  long  by  perhaps  twenty  wide. 

42 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      43 

In  the  corners  and  along  the  walls  were  sev 
eral  desks;  near  the  centre  of  the  room  were 
three  tables  given  over  to  train  sheets,  message 
hooks,  and  telegraph  instruments ;  heads,  some 
bald,  some  stoutly  haired,  bowed  at  the  desks 
and  tables;  the  room  was  pervaded  by  pipe 
odors  and  chattering  Morse. 

Burke  tapped  with  his  pencil  a  paper-weight 
that  lay  on  his  desk.  He  had  several  casts  of 
utterance  —  an  arid,  impersonal  one  that  to 
tally  disguised  his  feelings ;  a  dry,  grating  one 
that  took  you  into  consideration,  yet,  somehow, 
rubbed  the  skin  off  you,  and  a  quick,  explosive 
fashion  of  speech  on  occasion  that  was  wel 
coming  and  cordial.  His  tone  was  now  dry  and 
grating. 

"  Which  means,"  he  said,  "  that  the  young 
fellow  waiting  out  in  the  anteroom  is  to  get  a 
position,  or,  at  least,  consideration,  while  I  have 
a  letter  here  before  me  saying  that  he  is  — 
well,  plainly,  a  dangerous  man,  and  ought  to  be 
on  the  black-list.  Am  I  right?  "  He  looked 


44  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

from  under  his  heavy  brows  sidewise  at  Man- 
veil. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  chief  quietly.  "  It  so  hap 
pens  that  I  knew  a  good  deal  about  this  chap 
back  in  Chicago.  He  used  to  sell  papers  in 
front  of  the  A.  and  T.  depot  when  I  was  fourth 
man  in  the  despatcher's  office  back  there.  I 
saw  him  pull  a  ragged  little  fellow  out  from 
under  the  feet  of  an  advancing  truck  team  one 
day.  For  a  moment  the  two  youngsters  were 
mixed  up  with  the  legs  of  the  horses ;  then  the 
larger  boy  rolled  out  of  the  tangle  and  pulled 
the  little  one  after  him.  He  looked  at  the  squall 
ing  unfortunate  with  vast  displeasure,  then 
gave  him  a  fierce  shake  and  said:  'Now,  you 
skip  home,  Kunty,  t'  y'r  mudder;  y'r  not  big 
enough  t'  be  out  here  mixin'  wid  us  men!  '  I 
was  crossing  the  street  and  I  laughed  and 
stopped  and  asked  the  rescuer  if  he  were  hurt. 
He  rubbed  the  top  of  his  head  and  said :  '  Got 
a  knob  on  me  belfry,  dat's  all.  Say,  mister,  buy 
a  paper,  won't  ye?  '  I  purchased  a  paper,  he 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      45 

whistled,  danced  a  clog,  and  flew  away  among 
the  teams  and  people  and  clanging  cars,  look 
ing  for  customers. 

"  He  looked  to  be  about  twelve  years  old, 
though  I  think  he  was  older.  It  struck  me  that 
a  boy  who  met  the  daily  dangers  and  emergen 
cies  that  he  did  would,  if  trained,  make  a  good 
railroad  man.  I  got  him  into  the  office  as  mes 
senger  boy;  we  liked  him;  sent  him  to  night 
school,  and  had  him  taught  telegraphy.  After 
ward  he  took  a  position  as  operator  in  the 
block  system.  Now,  I  know  him  pretty  well, 
and  I  don't  believe  that  the  charges  laid  against 
him  in  the  letter  you  have  are  wholly  true.  It 
was  natural,  reared  as  he  was,  that  he  should 
have  sympathized  with  the  switchmen  in  their 
strike,  but  that  he  could  have  been  capable  of 
deserting  his  post  at  a  critical  moment  and  for 
the  purpose  of  wrecking  a  train  the  officials 
were  trying  to  run  out  of  the  city,  I  don't  be 
lieve.  It's  not  like  Jimmy  at  all." 

Burke    rapped    the    desk   in    front    of   him 


46  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

sharply  and  turned  toward  a  lad  who  sat  at 
a  table  folding  rate  sheets.  "  Tell  that  young 
fellow  out  there —  What  is  his  name,  Man- 
veil?  " 

"  Jimmy  Hogan." 

"  Yes  —  tell  him  to  come  in  here, ' '  added 
Burke  impatiently. 

The  applicant  was  ushered  in.  Exteriorly 
he  appeared  to  be  eighteen  or  nineteen  years 
of  age,  was  profusely  freckled,  slightly  stoop- 
shouldered,  and  small  for  his  years,  but  had  a 
keen,  alert  expression  of  countenance  and  a 
fearless  way  of  looking  at  people  and  things. 
The  cruel  conditions  of  his  early  years  had 
written  themselves  into  his  face  and  figure  past 
any  means  of  total  erasure,  yet  clearly  the  good 
that  was  native  to  him  had  enlarged  in  answer 
to  the  better  state  that  had  later  been  his.  He 
glanced  around  the  long  room  at  Tommy 
Loomis  and  Arch  Jordan,  who  were  working 
on  way  messages  and  car  reports,  and  at  Bunch 
Wilson,  who  was  hanging  over  the  East  End 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S   GRIT      47 

train  sheet,  immersed  in  that  clear  brown  con 
centration  through  which  despatchers  see 
things  throughout  a  hundred  miles  of  track, 
then  the  youth's  eyes  came  across  ManvelPs 
face.  His  greeting  was  fine  to  see.  He  did 
not  presume  to  take  the  chief's  hand,  but  his 
brown  eyes  and  his  freckles  and  every  fleshy 
part  of  him  glowed. 

Manvell  beamed.  "  Well,  you  thought  you'd 
come  out  to  Colorado  and  try  the  high  hills, 
Jimmy?  I  have  your  letter  asking  for  a  job, 
but  Mr.  Burke  here  has  a  letter  from  Superin 
tendent  Taylor  saying  that  you  ought  to  be  on 
the  black-list,  as  you  sided  with  the  strikers  in 
Chicago.  I  presume  Mr.  Burke  wishes  to  ask 
you  about  it."  He  nodded  toward  the  grizzled 
veteran  at  the  desk. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  superintendent  dryly. 
"  How  was  it  you  left  your  tower  one  night 
in  Chicago  without  giving  the  despatcher  no 
tice,  thus  causing  a  wreck?  " 

'  '  Some  strikers,  or  their  friends  —  four  men 


48  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

they  was,  sir  —  climbed  into  the  signal  box  and 
took  me  away  by  force,  sir.  I  fought  'em,  but 
they  was  too  much  for  me.  I  wanted  the 
switchers  t'  win,  sir,  but  I  wouldn't  'a'  de 
serted  without  telliiT  the  despatcher  I  was 
goin'.  I  wouldn't  'a'  done  that  if  me  mudder 
had  been  dyin'.  I  don't  sneak;  I  ain't  that 
kind."  The  freckled  youth  looked  at  Burke 
with  a  gleam  of  indignation  in  his  eyes.  "  I 
told  Mr.  Taylor  that,  but  he  was  mad  an' 
wouldn't  believe  me.  If  Mr.  Manvell  had  been 
there  he'd  'a'  knowed  I  wouldn't  do  such  a 
thing." 

Manvell  was  looking  at  the  Middle  Division 
train  sheet.  Burke  hesitated  a  moment.  "  You 
wanted  the  strikers  to  win,  you  say?  Then  I'm 
with  Taylor  — I  don't  believe  you.  People  act 
in  keeping  with  their  sympathies;  that's  a 
law." 

"  Not  always,"  said  Manvell,  turning 
around. 

"  Well,"  said  Burke,  "  if  you  want  to  send 


••  1  DON'T  SNEAK;  I  AIN'T  THAT  KIND."—  I\UJc  48. 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      49 

him  out  on  the  wire,  all  right;  you'll  have  to 
be  responsible." 

Manvell  smiled  at  Jimmy.  "  Come  'round 
in  the  morning;  I  think  I'll  have  a  place  for 
you,"  he  said,  and  quietly  continued  his 
work. 

Within  the  week  "  Freckle  "  Hogan,  as  he 
presently  was  dubbed,  found  himself  telegraph 
operator  in  a  little  sheet-iron  station  on  the 
Saddle  Bow,  away  out  on  the  West  End.  That 
was  when  the  Western  Central  had  been 
pushed  clear  across  Colorado,  and  a  path  for 
the  steam-driven  wheels  was  being  blasted  and 
torn  through  the  Saddle  Bow  Eange,  in  north 
ern  Arizona.  Down  that  way  nearly  a  thou 
sand  men  were  at  work  on  construction,  and 
the  things  that  were  done  with  powder  and 
dynamite  were  things  to  hear,  but  not  safely 
see.  "Yellow"  Logan  was  at  the  front  as 
chief  foreman,  and  Superintendent  Burke,  nat 
urally,  made  frequent  visits  to  the  scene  of 
operations. 


50  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Freckle's  "office"  was  a  movable  affair, 
being  by  times  folded  up  like  a  patent  lunch- 
box  and  thrown  on  a  flat  car  to  be  transported 
to  the  point  where  an  operator  was  most 
needed.  In  this  fashion  he  worked  his  way  well 
over  the  Range  during  the  summer ;  at  the  cool 
end  of  September  he  was  half-way  down  the 
west  side  of  the  mighty,  tumbled  billow  of 
mountains.  Besides  Freckle,  there  were  three 
other  operators  in  lunch-box  stations  on  the 
Eange,  from  eight  to  ten  miles  apart  and  pro 
gressing  by  occasional  removals  toward  the 
west.  There  were  two  tunnels  on  the  Saddle 
Bow  stretch  —  Number  12,  just  west  of 
Freckle's  September  stand,  and  Number  13, 
eighteen  miles  farther  down  the  western  slope, 
piercing  a  towering  mass  of  granite  that 
blocked  the  right  of  way  at  the  head  of  Bear 
Paw  canyon.  Late  in  August  Number  12  was 
practically  completed  and  the  rails  laid  down 
by  many  a  twist  and  turn  into  the  yawning 
bore  of  Number  13. 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      51 

All  through  that  heaving,  jumbled  country 
there  were  camps  and  men  and  mules  and 
scrapers;  derricks,  steam  drills,  car-loads  of 
picks  and  shovels;  piles  of  steel  rails  and 
switch-frogs;  trains  of  ties  and  structural 
bridge-iron,  and  at  many  points,  all  through 
the  crystalline  days  and  cool,  starry  nights, 
dynamite  and  powder  crashed  and  thundered 
in  the  blastings.  The  mountain  eagle,  fright 
ened  from  his  crag  and  soaring  in  vast  circles 
in  the  pale  sky,  looked  down  many  times  during 
the  summer  on  the  work  of  the  madly  toiling 
pigmies  and,  seeing  a  long,  ragged,  zigzag 
ging  gash  cut  across  the  knotted  breast  of 
his  lifted  realm,  screamed  harshly  and  was 
troubled. 

To  Freckle,  who  had  spent  his  whole  life 
amid  the  dirt  and  ugly  confusion  of  a  great 
city,  the  strength  and  serenity  of  the  great 
peaks,  the  infinite  purity  of  the  air,  the  green 
clouds  of  pines  hanging  here  and  there  on 
mountain  steeps,  the  white  bath  of  pellucid  sun- 


52  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

shine,  seemed  strangely  beautiful.  At  times 
he  was  oddly  exhilarated  by  it  all,  again  he  was 
touched  with  lonely  awe.  Had  it  not  been  for 
the  noise  of  the  work  and  the  presence  of  the 
rough  laborers,  he  would  have  no  doubt  experi 
enced  something  like  fear,  so  startling  was 
the  change  from  his  former  condition. 

Freckle  lived  the  long  days  through  with  a 
sort  of  rapture  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart ;  he 
felt  consecrated,  equal  to  any  task. 

On  the  last  day  of  September  it  came ;  peril 
was  abroad,  and  Freckle  found  his  part.  Ames 
Burke,  superintendent,  and  Pierce  Fuller,  chief 
engineer,  went  over  the  West  End  that  day, 
looking  for  weak  spots  and  "  stirring  things 
up.7' 

They  rode  on  several  trains,  chiefly  construc 
tion,  during  the  journey,  dropping  off  here  and 
there  on  errands  of  inspection.  By  sunset  they 
were  at  Summit,  on  the  Saddle  Bow  Eange. 
There  they  boarded  a  train  for  Tunnel  13, 
where,  in  the  upper  Bear  Paw  Camp,  hard  by 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      53 

the  tunnel's  black  mouth,  they  purposed  spend 
ing  the  night. 

The  train  on  which  they  took  final  passage 
for  Tunnel  13  was  a  light  one,  nine  flat  cars  of 
cedar  ties,  a  box  car  containing  five  tons  of 
powder,  and  a  caboose.  The  cars  of  ties  were 
ahead,  the  car  of  explosive  was  next  rearward, 
then  the  caboose,  then  Tart  Morgan  with  en 
gine  382,  pushing  the  train.  This  formation 
was  well  enough  coming  up  the  eastern  grades 
of  the  range,  but  in  dropping  down  the  western 
slope  the  engine  ought  to  have  been  hooked  in 
ahead,  more  effectively  to  hold  the  train. 
Burke  and  Fuller  flagged  the  train  and  boarded 
it  at  a  bridge  a  half-mile  west  of  Summit  sta 
tion  or,  unquestionably,  Burke  would  have  or 
dered  Conductor  Eawlins,  who  was  in  charge, 
to  run  the  engine  through  the  Summit  siding 
and  couple  in  ahead.  As  it  was,  Eawlins 
wished  very  sincerely  that  he  had  done  so  of 
his  own  accord,  for  Burke  roundly  criticized 
him  as  exercising  bad  judgment  or  being  luke- 


54  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

warm  with  laziness.  However,  Eawlins  meekly 
pointed  out  that  the  train  was  not  a  heavy 
one;  besides,  he  had  always  held  the  notion 
that  it  was  good  policy  to  keep  an  engine  to 
the  rear  of  powder,  so  that  sparks  from  the 
stack  might  not  blow  back  in  its  direction. 
Burke  pooh-poohed  the  * '  notion, ' '  but  none  .the 
less  it  carried  a  grain  of  sense. 

It  chanced,  as  so  often  falls,  that  several 
things  having  an  influence  on  the  ultimate  sit 
uation  had  happened  within  that  hour.  One 
thing:  Frank  McGuire,  stationed  in  a  lunch- 
box  office  near  the  mouth  of  Tunnel  13,  had 
gone  into  the  bore  with  a  message  for  the  fore 
man,  and  had  been  hit  by  a  falling  rock  and 
his  right  arm  broken.  The  plucky  lad  had  tele 
graphed  the  fact  to  Manvell  with  his  left  hand, 
and  the  chief  at  once  called  Freckle,  sitting  in 
his  box  near  Tunnel  12. 

"  Flag  Eawlins 's  special  and  go  down  to 
Number  13  and  take  charge  until  further  or 
ders/'  said  the  chief.  "  McGuire  has  been 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S   GRIT      55 

injured.  I  will  send  a  man  out  to  Number  12 
to-night  to  do  your  work.  An  operator  at 
present  is  needed  far  more  at  Number  13  than 
at  your  station. " 

"O.K.,"  said  Freckle.  "I  hear  a  train 
comin';  expect  it's  Eawlins 's.  I'll  flag  'em 
and  report  to  you  from  13." 

He  scrambled  up  the  caboose  steps  when  the 
special  stopped  and  told  Eawlins  the  situation. 
"  What's  that?  "  sharply  inquired  Burke,  who 
had  heard. 

Freckle  repeated  ManvelPs  order.  "  All 
right,  let  him  ride,"  said  the  superintendent, 
glancing  at  Eawlins.  He  looked  again  at 
Freckle.  '  '  Are  you  that  Chicago  boy  —  Man- 
veil 's  pet  —  the  one  Taylor  wrote  me  about?  " 
he  asked  abruptly. 

Freckle's  face  flushed.  "  Yes,  sir,"  he  re 
plied. 

Burke 's  lips  puckered,  but  he  said  nothing 
further.  Freckle  went  out  on  the  front  plat 
form  of  the  caboose  where  the  rear  brakeman 


56  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

was  standing.  The  head  man,  the  train  being 
so  light,  had  been  dropped  for  the  night  at 
Summit,  where  his  family  lived. 

66  Got  the  engine  behind  the  train  —  funny 
way  to  run  down  grade,"  said  Freckle,  looking 
about. 

'  '  Car  of  powder  —  this  box  car  —  right  here 
next  to  us,"  said  the  brakeman.  "  Bawlins 
likes  to  have  the  engine  back  when  we  got  pow 
der  in  the  string;  not  a  bad  idee,  I  reckon." 

At  that  moment  they  entered  Tunnel  12. 
Ahead  of  them,  through  quite  the  fourth  of  a 
mile,  stretched  darkness  illumined  here  and 
there  by  lanterns  depending  from  rods  of  iron 
wedged  into  crevices  of  the  rocky  walls,  for 
workmen  were  still  chiselling  at  the  rough  spots 
of  the  ragged  sides  and  ceiling.  Now  one  of 
these  lanterns,  no  doubt  loosened  from  its  sup 
port  by  the  jar  of  the  hurrying  train,  fell  down 
unobserved  among  the  dry  ties  of  the  head  flat 
car,  spilling  its  oil  and  flame  among  them,  and 
in  three  minutes'  time  Tragedy  lifted  its  wild 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      57 

face  on  the  western  slope  of  Saddle  Bow 
Eange. 

Had  they  observed  the  fire  earlier,  had  no 
panic  supervened,  the  final  peril  might  have 
been  averted.  As  it  was,  Burke  and  Fuller, 
at  Rawlins's  little  desk,  were  figuring  a  recti 
fication  estimate.  Eawlins  himself,  near  the 
rear  door  and  steadying  himself  with  feet  wide 
apart,  was  laboriously  penciling  a  report  to 
the  Supply  Department  from  his  train  memo 
randum  book.  Tart  Morgan,  at  the  right-hand 
window  of  the  engine  cab,  could  not  see  the 
head  end,  as  the  train  was  moving  on  a  long 
tangent  to  the  left;  the  fireman  was  busy  at 
the  furnace;  Freckle  and  the  brakeman,  talk 
ing  on  the  platform  close  behind  the  car  of 
powder,  could  see  nothing  directly  in  front. 
The  cuts  and  hollows  were  filling  with  eve 
ning's  purple  dusk,  the  tops  of  the  mountains 
were  foiled  with  gold. 

The  train  had  left  the  tunnel  a  half-mile  be 
hind  when,  suddenly,  Morgan  snatched  the 


58  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

whistle  lever  and  blew  for  brakes.  The  brake- 
man  swung  out  to  the  left  by  the  hand  rods 
of  the  platform.  The  heaped  ties  of  the  first 
two  cars  were  spotted  with  tufts  of  flame; 
smoke  and  burning  bits  of  bark  blew  back  in 
his  face.  As  by  a  flash  of  lightning,  he  beheld 
a  mental  vision  that  swept  him  into  panic.  He 
leaped  to  the  caboose  door  and  flung  it  open 
and  yelled,  then  dropped  on  the  platform  and 
seized  the  head  of  the  pin  in  the  coupling  be 
tween  the  caboose  and  car  of  powder.  Freckle 
jumped  upon  him  crying  out  for  him  not  to 
draw  the  pin.  Bawlins  and  Burke  and  Fuller 
spilled  themselves  unceremoniously  out  the 
front  door,  shouting,  "What's  the  matter? 
What's  the  matter  here?  " 

'  '  Head  cars  are  on  fire !  Powder  —  pow 
der  —  powder !  ' '  cried  the  brakeman,  dragging 
madly  at  the  obstinate  coupling-pin. 

At  that  moment,  getting  no  brakes,  Morgan 
put  the  reversing  lever  over;  the  couplings 
clanked,  and  the  pin  came  out  in  the  brake- 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT       59 

man's  hand.  Every  man  on  the  platform  was 
shouting  and  struggling;  in  every  man's  brain 
was  fear  tangling  with  protests  and  fleeting 
glimpses  of  what  ought  to  be  done. 

Burke  stamped  at  the  brakeman  and  roared 
hoarsely,  l  i  Put  the  pin  back !  put  the  pin 
back!  "  but  that  could  not  be  done.  The  cars 
instantly  parted,  yet,  in  that  instant  Freckle 
Hogan  leaped.  The  brakeman  was  on  his 
knees,  and  Freckle  went  over  his  head  and 
landed  on  the  bunter-block  and  draw-head  of 
the  powder  car,  with  his  right  hand  clutching 
the  brake-wheel  rod  that  extended  up  the  end 
of  the  car.  In  Freckle's  brain  flashed  an  imag 
ined  spectacle  that  for  the  time  being  drowned 
all  fear  —  a  picture  of  a  train  on  fire  hurling 
itself  into  the  mouth  of  Tunnel  13,  for  the  rails 
led  directly  into  the  great  bore  —  of  a  car  of 
powder  crumbling  in  a  mass  of  bursting  fire, 
of  men  and  machinery  and  all  things  flying  into 
atoms. 

He  began  hastily  climbing  up   the   brake- 


60  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

wheel  rod,  slipping  back  and  climbing  again, 
struggling  madly  for  the  top  of  the  car  with 
the  one  thought  of  setting  the  brakes  and 
bringing  the  surging  string  of  cars  to  a  stand 
still.  He  vaguely  heard  Eawlins  shouting 
angrily  at  the  brakeman  somewhere  behind 
him :  "  I  told  you  at  Summit  to  go  over  ahead 
and  hold  the  train  if  anything  happened;  why 
didn't  you  do  it?  "  He  also  heard  Burke 's 
voice,  mingling  terror  and  command  and  en 
couragement  in  hoarse  cries :  ' '  Set  'em,  boy ! 
Get  to  the  top !  If  you  can  set  'em  on  three 
or  four  cars  you've  got  'em!  Hold  fast!  Don't 
give  up!  " 

Freckle  slipped  down  the  rod  and  hung 
dangling  and  gasping;  the  train,  free  of  all 
restraint,  rushed  down  the  steep  grade,  jarring 
and  jerking  and  swaying  as  it  flew.  He  got 
his  feet  again  on  the  bunter-block  and  strug 
gled  a  moment  for  breath,  then  again  began  to 
climb.  Up,  up,  little  by  little,  he  followed  the 
slippery  rod,  flung  momentarily  to  right  and 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      61 

left  and  all  but  torn  loose  by  the  swaying  of 
the  car.  A  cloud  of  smoke  streamed  back  over 
the  top  of  the  car,  and  into  that  stream  those 
on  the  caboose  and  engine  through  the  growing 
darkness  saw  him  finally  scramble. 

He  lay  for  a  moment,  spent  and  choking,  on 
top  of  the  car,  then  rose  to  his  feet  and  laid 
hold  of  the  brake-wheel  and  set  it  with  all  his 
strength.  Upon  the  flying  train  of  cars,  the 
setting  of  the  brake  seemingly  had  not  the 
slightest  effect.  He  clambered  along  the  run 
ning-board  through  the  driving  smoke  and 
sparks  to  the  front  end  of  the  car ;  the  powder 
in  the  cases  beneath  him,  to  his  excited  fancy, 
seemed  to  writhe  and  boil,  but  more  wild  and 
terrible  than  all  was  that  picture  which  never 
for  a  moment  quit  his  mind,  of  fire  and  powder 
crashing  together  among  the  men  in  Tunnel  13. 

From  the  front  end  of  the  box-car  he  peered 
down  on  the  next  car,  a  gray  mass  of  ties  sway 
ing  and  jarring  in  smoke  and  shadow,  and 
down  upon  that  he  leaped  and  fell  and  clutched 


62  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

fast  and  crept  along  to  the  forward  end  and 
found  the  brake  and  twisted  it  hard.  Then 
he  climbed  upon  the  next  load,  but  there  he  fal 
tered  and  turned  his  back  against  the  biting, 
strangling  flood  of  heated  smoke,  coughing, 
clutching  at  his  breast,  and  all  but  swooning. 
Toppling,  he  knit  his  fingers  as  best  he  could 
in  the  barked  edges  of  the  ties  and  strove  to 
keep  hold  of  his  faculties  as  he  watched  the 
jumbled  landscape  wheeling  by,  then  he  crept 
forward  again.  But  he  found  progress  impos 
sible.  The  forward  three  loads  were  cars  of 
leaping  flame,  the  ricked  ties  of  the  next  four 
cars  were  tufted  as  with  blowing  torches,  back 
over  him  and  lapping  against  the  top  of  the  box 
car,  the  driving  smoke  streamed  like  some  sort 
of  awful  hair,  tangled  with  a  million  fireflies. 
Freckle  could  breathe  the  stuff  no  longer. 
He  sprawled  and  swayed  and  strangled,  got 
to  the  rear  end  of  the  car  upon  which  he  was, 
slipped  down  behind  the  rick  of  ties  and  cov 
ered  up  his  burning  eyes.  His  head  seemed 


FRECKLE    HOGAN'S    GRIT      63 

filled  with,  a  hundred  swirling  images  threaded 
with  darting  thoughts.  When  would  the  car 
of  powder  explode?  How  long  before  the  fire 
would  drive  him  from  the  train?  If  he  jumped, 
how  would  it  feel  to  be  dashed  among  jagged 
rocks!  Would  he  have  the  courage  to  leap  to 
such  a  fate  1  And  the  fiery  wreck  in  Tunnel  13 1 
What  a  vision! 

Then  something  came  to  Freckle  Hogan. 
What  is  it  that  sometimes  whispers,  saying 
things  to  those  who  strive  to  save  others,  when 
the  heart  cries  for  help  though  the  lips  may 
only  gasp  for  breath?  The  whisper  in 
Freckle's  brain  said: 

"  Jump  near  the  first  Bear  Paw  bridge  — 
at  the  track-walker's  station  —  he  has  a  box- 
relay  on  the  wire  there — telegraph  13  to  get 
the  men  out  of  the  tunnel  —  save  lives  —  let 
the  train  go !  ' ' 

Freckle  was  on  the  bottom  of  the  flat  car 
where  there  was  a  narrow  space  at  the  rear  of 
the  load.  He  crept  to  the  edge  and  looked  down 


64  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

at  the  earth,  a  gray  sheet  of  stones  and  logs 
and  suddenly  heaving  walls  whirled  dizzily 
rearward.  The  sparks  and  hot  smoke  beat  into 
his  face;  the  noise  and  lurching  and  twisting 
of  the  train  appalled  him.  How  far  the  train 
had  gone  he  could  only  surmise,  but  from  the 
first  Bear  Paw  bridge  to  Tunnel  13  the  distance 
was  about  eight  miles,  that  he  knew.  He  lay 
flat  on  his  breast  with  his  head  over  the  edge, 
watching.  The  heat  increased,  the  smoke  and 
sparks  thickened,  the  cases  of  powder  in  the 
box  car  were  leaping.  Two  and  three  and  four 
minutes  passed,  year-long  stretches  of  time, 
then  he  saw  a  crooked  road  of  tumbling  froth 
below  him  —  the  plunging  train  had  struck  the 
banks  of  the  upper  Bear  Paw.  He  drew  him 
self  farther  over  the  edge,  staring  hard 
through  the  smoke;  he  must  be  near  the  first 
bridge.  Suddenly  something  seemed  to  shout 
in  his  ear  the  one  wild  word  — ' '  Jump !  ' '  and 
he  drew  his  knees  under  him  and  sprang  at 
the  white,  wavering,  woolly  thing  below.  He 


FRECKLE  HOGAN'S   GRIT       65 

went  feet  over  head,  turning  in  air,  and  the 
next  moment  felt  the  earth  tear  his  scalp,  and 
the  next  instant  heard  and  felt  his  right  leg 
snap  and  thrill  him  with  awful  pain,  then  he 
was  in  ice-cold  water ;  and  the  wheeled  train  of 
fire  went  roaring  on  down  Bear  Paw  canyon. 

At  many  points  between  Tunnel  12  and  Tun 
nel  13  men  in  camps  along  the  half -finished  line 
saw  the  terrible  thing  go  by  through  the  gray 
dusk,  and  ran  to  and  fro  like  frightened  ants. 
But  there  seemed  no  means  of  help.  There 
was  only  the  little  box-relay  on  the  wire  in  the 
walker's  sheet-iron  hut,  near  the  first  Bear 
Paw  bridge. 

Burke,  grim  and  pale,  stood  on  the  front 
platform  of  the  flying  caboose,  now  and  again 
catching  a  glimpse  of  the  blazing  thing  ahead. 
His  lips  worked  in  his  beard;  his  big  hands 
gripped  the  hand-rod  in  front  of  him  until  his 
knuckles  were  white.  Morgan  had  the  throttle 
open,  but  they  could  not  get  nearer  than  a  half- 
mile  or  more  of  the  fiery  snake  ahead  of  them; 


66  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

besides,  who  wished  or  dared  to  approach 
closer  than  that,  when  at  any  moment  the  car 
of  powder  might  ignite? 

"  Stop  at  the  walker's  station  by  the  bridge," 
Burke  finally  shouted  to  Eawlins.  "  If  he's  in 
maybe  we  can  catch  13  by  the  wire  and  get 
the  men  out  of  the  tunnel.  Go  back  on  the 
engine  and  tell  Morgan  to  let  her  out  until  we 
approach  the  station,  then  to  plug  her  so  we 
can  act  quick. ' '  He  glanced  ahead  and  saw  the 
flying  wraith  of  smoke  and  flame  wheeling 
downward  through  a  bending  grove  toward  the 
Bear  Paw.  And  that  freckled  boy  from  Chi 
cago  was  on  the  blazing  thing,  trying  to  stop 
it !  He  bent  forward  and  muttered  odd  words. 

With  whistling  jets  of  steam  from  her  cocks 
and  the  tearing  snarl  of  reversed  drivers,  382 
jolted  and  stopped  at  the  walker's  station. 
Fuller,  Burke,  and  Bawlins  lunged  from  the 
caboose  while  the  wheels  were  still  turning, 
and  made  for  the  sheet-iron  shed  by  leaps  and 
bounds.  Burke  kicked  the  door  open  —  Prin- 


FRECKLE   HOGAN'S  GRIT       67 

die,  the  walker,  was  not  there !  Two  miles  up 
the  track  they  had  nearly  run  over  him  with 
out  being  aware  of  it;  at  the  present  moment 
he  was  running  toward  the  station  but  was 
far  up  the  mountainside.  The  little  box-relay 
on  the  table  in  the  mimic  station  was  rattling 
softly.  The  men  glanced  at  it,  then  came  out; 
no  man  among  them  knew  the  Morse  code. 
Burke  looked  up  at  the  gray  sky  into  which 
big,  soft  stars  were  blossoming,  and  his  lips 
moved.  As  his  glance  fell  back  to  earth,  some 
thing  came  crawling  across  the  track  in  front 
of  the  caboose,  a  wet,  smallish  figure  that 
dragged  itself  forward  on  its  hands  and  knees. 
Burke  leaped  at  it.  "  The  boy  —  Hogan!  "  he 
shouted,  and  gathered  the  bedraggled  figure  in 
his  arms. 

Freckle's  face  was  close  to  the  superintend 
ent's;  each  looked  in  the  other's  eyes.  "  My 
leg 's  broke  —  get  me  int '  the  table  quick  —  t ' 
the  relay — so's  I  can  call  13,"  came  from  the 
boy's  bloody  lips. 


68  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Burke  turned  and  literally  ran  with  him  into 
the  station.  He  placed  him  in  the  chair  before 
the  instrument  and  stood  steadying  him  with 
his  hands.  Fuller  and  Eawlins  ran  in  after 
them;  the  faces  of  all  were  white,  only  that 
Freckle's  was  dripping  blood.  He  put  a  shak 
ing  hand  on  the  key,  his  brows  drawn  into  a 
knot,  his  nostrils  distended,  his  lips  pulled  tight 
across  his  teeth;  he  was  faint  with  agony. 
The  key  went  up  and  down.  "  Tc,  tc,  tc,"  it 
said. 

"  Why,  boy,  didn't  you  say  the  tunnel  opera 
tor  got  hurt  —  his  arm  broken  this  afternoon? 
He  cannot  answer!  "  exclaimed  Burke  in  sud 
den  fearful  disgust. 

"  Yes,  he  will,"  said  Freckle  through  his 
teeth;  "  if  Frank's  in  his  bunk  in  the  box,  no 
matter  if  his  neck's  broke,  he'll  answer  —  he's 
Irish." 

He  pushed  the  wet  hair  from  his  puckered 
forehead  and  went  on  calling,  but  no  reply 
came  back.  Then  he  ticked  out  a  full  and  ter- 


HE    PUT    A    SHAKING    HAND    ON    THE    KEY.  —  Paye  88. 


FRECKLE  HOGAN'S  GRIT       69 

rifying  sentence:  "  If  you're  in  your  bunk, 
Frank,  run  to  the  tunnel  and  get  the  men  out 
—  runaway  train  on  fire,  car  of  powder  at  tail 
of  train  —  if  it  don't  blow  up  before  it  gets 
there,  it'll  explode  in  the  tunnel!  Get  the 
men " 

Then  the  current  broke.  "  Who  —  says  — 
that?  "  ticked  the  instrument  bunglingly,  fal- 
teringly. 

i  l  Freckle  Hogan  —  first  Bear  Paw  bridge  — 
that  you,  Frank?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Git  the  night  shift  out  of " 

"  O.K.'' 

"He's  —  gone  —  after  the  —  men,"  filtered 
dreamily  through  Freckle 's  teeth,  and  he  rolled 
back  in  Burke 's  arms  and  darkness  flooded 
over  him. 

Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  young  red 
headed  fellow  with  an  arm  in  slats  burst  out 
of  the  iron  shed  near  the  mouth  of  Tunnel  13. 

"  Get   away  from  in  front  of  the  tunnel! 


70  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Get  out  of  it!  "  he  yelled,  as  he  bolted  head 
long  into  the  ragged  bore.  "  Out  of  here  —  out 
of  here  —  every  mother's  son  of  you!  Run 
away  train  —  on  fire  —  powder  in  train !  Out 
of  here!  "  Thus  all  the  way  to  the  breast  of 
the  blasting,  seven  hundred  feet  from  the  tun 
nel's  mouth,  his  strong,  young  voice  roared  the 
warning  as  he  ran. 

Sixty  men  came  out  of  the  works  with  such 
speed  as  terror  of  death  alone  can  put  into 
human  legs.  Logan,  head  foreman,  was  with 
them. 

"  Scatter!  Get  off  the  right  of  way!  Get 
back !  "he  yelled,  for  the  steel  rails  were  whin 
ing  and  Bear  Paw  canyon  was  roaring  and 
clapping  with  echoes. 

Then  around  a  bulging  point  the  thing  of 
fear  reeled  suddenly  into  view,  and  all  the 
rugged  walls  of  the  gorge  and  the  foaming 
Bear  Paw  and  the  faces  of  the  hiding  men  were 
whitened.  The  loaded  ties  were  ablaze  clear 
to  the  powder  car  and  the  forward  end  of  that 


FRECKLE  HOGAN'S  GRIT       71 

was  sheeted  over  with  fire,  and  coals  and 
sparks  had  begun  dropping  down  upon  the 
cases.  The  flaming  thing  went  into  the  tunnel 
with  a  seething  roar,  then  in  a  moment  came 
an  appalling  crash  and  the  Saddle  Bow  Range 
quivered  down  to  its  last  strata.  A  vomit  of 
stones  and  twisted  rails  and  broken  machinery 
gushed  from  the  tunnel's  mouth,  ,a  breath  that 
turned  boulders  over  went  up  the  canyon,  then 
silence  fell. 

Burke,  tenderly  laying  Freckle  on  the  seat 
cushions  in  the  caboose,  up  by  Prindle's  sta 
tion,  heard  the  detonation.  His  mouth  worked 
in  his  beard  oddly.  After  a  moment  he  said 
quietly:  "  Eawlins,  we'll  run  on  down  to  Thir 
teen;  tell  your  engineer." 

He  straightened  Freckle's  limp  form  on  the 
cushions,  wiped  the  lad's  wet  face  softly  with 
his  handkerchief,  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
car.  Fuller  and  Rawlins  looked  at  him  fur 
tively;  in  each  man's  mind  worked  the  thought: 
' t  If  the  men  in  Thirteen  did  not  get  the  warn- 


72  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ing  in  time,  then-  '  but  they  said  nothing. 
When  they  got  down  from  the  caboose  near 
Tunnel  13,  Foreman  Logan  met  them. 

"  Well?  "  said  Burke. 

"  No  one  hurt  —  machinery,  everything 
gone,"  replied  Logan. 

"  All  right,"  said  the  superintendent,  with 
a  long,  relieving  breath.  "  Order  new  machin 
ery  sent  here  at  once.  Clear  the  tunnel  as  soon 
as  it  cools.  Where's  your  doctor?  " 

"  Over  there  in  the  shed  with  McGuire." 

' '  Get  him ;  boy  with  broken  leg  here  in  the 
caboose.  Fetch  McGuire,  if  he's  able;  I  want 
to  promote  him." 

Afterward  Freckle  went  to  the  company's 
hospital  at  Paley  Fork.  He  went  in  a  special 
car.  One  morning  Burke  and  Manvell  stepped 
into  the  accident  ward ;  Freckle  looked  up  from 
his  cot  and  his  brown  eyes  glistened. 

"  Mr.  Burke  thinks  we'd  better  make  a  place 
for  you  on  the  wires  here  at  headquarters," 
said  Manvell  smilingly. 


FRECKLE  HOGAN'S   GRIT       73 

Freckle  picked  at  the  white  counterpane. 

"  Don't  —  know  as  —  I'm  good  enough.  But 
if  you  think " 

"We'll  manage  that  all  right,"  laughed 
Burke;  "  you  Know,  we're  Irish!  ' 

When  Freckle  finally  was  well  and  sound 
came  another  surprise,  the  Diamond  Key.  In 
vitations  to  a  banquet  at  the  Lyon  House  were 
received  by  numerous  people  engaged  in  the 
Western  Central  project.  The  invitations  were 
signed  by  Superintendent  Burke  and  an 
nounced  that  the  recipients  would  have  the 
pleasure  and  honor  of  meeting  "  two  very 
eminent  persons  "  at  the  dinner.  When  as 
many  of  the  officials  and  employees  as  could 
attend  were  seated  at  the  long  tables  in  the 
big  dining-room,  it  was  found  that  Dreamy 
Meadows  sat  on  the  right  hand  and  Freckle 
Hogan  on  the  left  of  Superintendent  Burke, 
at  the  head  of  the  first  table.  We  then  began 
to  have  an  inkling  of  what  it  all  meant,  but  it 
became  clearer  when,  at  the  close  of  the  fine 


74  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

repast,  Burke  rose  and  made  a  glowing  speech 
extolling  fidelity  to  duty  in  all  men,  and  espe 
cially  as  exemplified  by  the  two  young  fellows 
who  sat  beside  him.  We  approved  with  very 
strong  applause,  as  may  be  fancied,  but  when 
Burke  took  from  a  case  two  small  diamond-set 
keys  of  gold,  and  pinned  one  upon  the  breast 
of  each  of  the  young  heroes,  saying,  "  These 
keys,  or  rather  the  brave  deeds  they  commem 
orate,  ought  by  right  of  justice  to  unlock  the 
hearts  of  all  men  to  the  wearers  and  the 
world's  best  avenues  to  their  service,"  then  we 
cheered  indeed.  Afterwards  we  found,  as  our 
astute  superintendent  had  intimated,  that  kind 
ness  flowed  toward  whoever  wore  the  Diamond 
Key,  and  opportunities  were  open  to  them 
which,  owing  to  that  which  the  badge  signified, 
they  strove  the  harder  to  fill  acceptably. 


CHAPTER  IV 

DESTINY   AND   A   SMALL   BOY 

"nHHEBE,  take  the  meddy,  that's  Mummy's 

J-  nice  little  man.  It  will  do  Tollie  good 
—  make  him  all  well." 

But  the  "  nice  little  man  "  put  both  the 
medicine  and  flattery  aside  with  a  wailing  pro 
test,  his  small,  pale  face  wrinkling  itself  into 
a  many-lined  weather-map,  with  the  mouth  the 
chief  storm  centre. 

"  Mummy  will  put  some  sugar  in  —  make  it 
nice  and  sweety  —  then  Tollie  will  take  it." 

Still,  with  this  alluring  saccharine  addition, 
Tollie  came  only  slightly  nearer  the  mysterious 
bait.  He  blinked  his  blue  eyes  over  the  prof 
fered  cup,  tasted  the  contents,  and  threw  him 
self  back  and  voiced  an  unqualified  disapproval 

75 


76  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

of  sleep-engendering  potions  of  all  sorts.  He 
was  a  very,  very  young  man,  but  he  was  old 
with  the  primal  instinct  of  self-preservation 
and  naturalness. 

The  mother  looked  worried.  Her  abundant 
brown  hair  was  tumbled  awry,  her  loose  gown 
was  slightly  stringy  and  soiled,  but,  being  un 
pinned  at  the  neck,  showed  a  milk-white  throat. 
Her  face  was  comely,  though  clearly  the  pres 
ervation  of  its  comeliness  was  not  her  chief 
care;  her  hands,  from  the  view-point  of  the 
aesthetic,  were  a  pronouncement  against  dish 
water  and  housework.  The  room  about  her 
was  comfortable  enough  —  a  nickel-trimmed 
hard-coal  stove,  muslin  window  curtain,  a  cab 
inet  organ,  a  reddish  three-ply  carpet  soiled 
here  and  there  and  ornamented  with  battered 
toys.  Outside,  beyond  a  white  picket-fence  and 
a  frozen  street,  spread  the  Paley  Fork  yards, 
the  tracks  and  roundhouse  and  division  station 
offices  of  the  Western  Central.  Beyond  the 
yards  and  the  pinched  confines  of  the  little 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     77 

town,  both  to  north  and  south,  soared  moun 
tains  in  billowy  masses.  Brown-bosomed  for 
the  most  part,  the  towering  slopes  were  dark 
ened  here  and  there  with  clots  of  scrubby  pines, 
and  here  and  there  the  lords  of  the  peaks  wore 
vast  hoods  of  glistening  white.  Afar  in  the 
west  the  dying  sun  hung  between  two  horns 
of  a  mountain-top,  golden,  shimmering ;  the  air 
was  cold  and  vaguely  yellow;  snowflakes, 
widely  scattered  and  wandering  like  the  souls 
of  bees,  drifted  and  wavered,  seemingly  too 
light  to  come  to  earth.  Upon  the  mountains 
there  was  silence,  in  the  Paley  Fork  yards  the 
clanging  of  engine  bells,  the  hiss  of  steam  from 
exhaust  cocks,  and  now  and  again  the  clumping 
rattle  of  drawheads  battering  together. 

The  woman  in  the  cottage  put  the  cup  down 
and  corked  the  bottle  that  furnished  the  cup 
with  its  vexing  contents.  She  folded  the  little 
man  close  to  her  and  began  rocking  him,  croon 
ing  softly  the  while.  In  a  moment  she  shifted 
her  chair  so  that  he  could  not  see  the  bottle, 


78  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

for  each  sight  of  it  apparently  gave  the  wee 
fellow  a  disturbing  qualm.  Over  by  the  north 
window  a  larger  little  man  sat  flat  on  the  floor, 
a  clutter  of  small  things  about  him  —  the  dis 
organized  works  of  an  old  clock,  screws, 
strings,  and  bits  of  whittled  wood.  With  a 
pocket-knife,  a  tack-hammer,  and  a  screw 
driver  he  was  laboring  at  the  construction  of 
a  locomotive,  the  motive  power  of  which  he 
conceived  might  be  furnished  by  the  spring  of 
the  dismantled  clock.  Clearly  he  was  a  man 
of  action  and  imagination.  He  had  a  big  head 
from  which,  but  the  day  before,  a  tousled  mass 
of  reddish  curls,  worn  from  infancy,  had  been 
shorn  clean  away.  His  head  felt  rather  cold, 
to  be  sure,  but  delightfully  light  and  airy  and 
nice.  He  ran  a  grimy  hand  over  its  surface 
now  and  then  with  manifest  interest;  it  felt 
like  some  one  else's  head,  or,  at  least,  a  new 
one.  However,  it  was  immensely  satisfactory. 
He  had  real  starry  eyes,  light  brown  and  twin 
kling  at  everything.  He  looked  at  the  disturb- 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     79 

ing  bottle,  at  the  tiny  white  face  cuddled 
against  the  woman's  bosom,  and  down  at  his 
tools  and  materials  sweepingly.  Apparently 
he  could  conceive  a  great  many  ambitions,  as 
well  as  several  sorts  of  mischief,  in  a  single 
moment,  or,  at  any  rate,  within  a  very  short 
period  of  time.  He  ruminated : 

"  Tollie's  sick,  that's  what  he  is  —  he's  thess 
a  white  little  feller  with  no  strenth,  that's  what 
he  is  —  that  ole  med'cine  makes  him  sick, 
that's  what  it  does  —  I  wonder  how  I  can  make 
this  spring  stay  coiled  up!  I  ought  t'  have  a 
key  t'  wind  it  up  with,  that's  what  I  ought  — 
Mummy  shouldn't  give  him  the  ole  stuff  —  it 
makes  him  go  t'  sleep  w'en  he  don't  want  to, 
an'  it's  awful  t'  go  t'  sleep  w'en  you  don't  want 
to  —  I  wish  there  wasn't  no  night  nor  no  ole 
sleep,  it's  thess  a  waste  of  time,  that's  what 
it  is  — Where  did  I  put  that  file?  Here  it  is 
under  me  —  If  I  get  a  chance  I'll  empty  out 
that  ole  med'cine  so  Tollie  won't  have  it  t' 
take,  that's  what  I  will  — I'll  have  t'  toot  for 


80  THE   DIAMOND    KEY 

this  engine  w'en  it  runs;  I  can't  make  a  tooter 
on  it;  for  that  takes  steam  —  I'll  make  a  bell 
for  the  engine  out  of  Mummy's  silver  thimble, 
that's  what  I  will  — If  Pa  would  happen  t' 
step  on  my  engine,  he's  got  such  big  —  My,  if 
I  only  had  four  silver  dollars  t'  make  the  driv 
ers  out  of!  I'll  ask  Pa,  that's  what  I  will- 
Pa  ought  t'  take  the  med'cine ;  he  said  he  could 
take  a  quart  of  it  an'  not  get  sleepy;  that's 
what  he  tole  Tollie  —  Pa  showed  me  how  t' 
start  a  engine  w'en  I  climbed  up  on  Big  Susan 
t'  see  him  yest'day;  it's  thess  as  easy;  you 
thess  push  a  thing  over  an'  away  you  go ;  some 
time  I'm  going  t'  be  a  engineer,  that's  what 
I  am  —  Tollie 's  gone  t'  sleep ;  I  wonder  if  that 
sup  he  took  did  it?  He's  thess  a  white  little 
feller  an'  ain't  got  no  strenth;  that's  what 
he  is." 

Heavy  feet  came  tramping  across  the  porch, 
the  woman  softly  but  swiftly  ran  up  a  stair 
way  with  the  "  white  little  feller,"  and,  placing 
him  carefully  upon  a  bed,  came  noiselessly 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     81 

down  again.  A  big,  hearty-looking  man  was 
laughingly  examining  the  work  of  the  small 
laborer  by  the  north  window.  He  turned  with 
a  merry,  "  Hello,  Lady  Mother!  "  Lady 
Mother  smiled  but  laid  a  finger  on  her  lips 
with  a  hushing  "  sh-s-s-s!  "  and  pointed 
toward  the  chamber  above. 

"  He  asleep?  "  whispered  the  big  man. 

Lady  Mother  nodded  her  head.  The  big  man 
tiptoed  across  the  room  toward  the  little  dining- 
room.  "  Have  to  get  supper  right  off,"  he 
said ;  ' '  ordered  out  on  a  special  —  go  in  about 
an  hour.  Fill  my  lunch-pail,  Lady  Mother; 
put  in  lots  of  coffee ;  going  to  be  a  cold  night 
and  a  long  run.  Here,  Muggins,  if  you  don't 
make  less  racket  pounding  on  that  machine 
we'll  have  to  give  you  some  dope  out  of  the 
bottle  to  quiet  you."  He  looked  at  the  young 
engine-builder  with  simulated  severity.  "  This 
isn't  a  boiler  factory;  you  disturb  your  mother 
and  the  baby.  Say,  Sue,  you  better  give  him 
a  dose  of  the  entrancer  in  the  morning;  keep 


82  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

him  quiet  during  the  day. ' '    He  winked  at  Lady 
Mother. 

The  husband  and  wife  passed  into  the  din 
ing-room.  Muggins  laid  down  his  tools  and 
went  over  and  looked  at  the  '  '  entrancer  ' '  with 
a  very  serious  countenance.  Every  relation 
that  hinged  upon  the  existence  of  this  soporific 
stuff,  to  his  way  of  thinking,  demanded  its 
annihilation;  all  the  factors  of  consideration 
ran  to  one  point  and  cohered  in  a  verdict  of 
condemnation.  He  quickly  cast  about  in  search 
of  the  most  secret  and  least  incriminating 
means  of  ridding  the  house  of  it.  Spying  his 
father's  big  lunch-pail  sitting  back  of  the  stove, 
his  bright  eyes  became  brighter.  Pa  had  de 
clared  that  he  could  drink  a  quart  of  the  medi 
cine  without  experiencing  ill  effects.  Obedient 
to  the  suggestion  and  several  other  psychic 
promptings  peculiar  to  six-year-old  boys,  Mug 
gins  seized  the  pail  unscrewed  the  stopper  of 
the  coffee-tank  and  poured  the  offending  con 
coction  into  the  receptacle.  There  wasn't 


MUGGINS  POURED  THE  OFFENDING 

CONCOCTION  INTO  THE  RECEPTACLE. 

Page  82. 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     83 

nearly  a  quart  of  the  medicine,  anyhow,  not 
more  than  a  half-pint,  perhaps,  and  of  course 
Pa  would  never  mind  a  little  dab  like  that. 
Maybe  it  would  do  Pa  good,  for  Pa  had  a 
troublesome  bunion,  and  the  medicine  might 
cure  it.  Upon  full  and  serious  consideration 
Muggins  convinced  himself  that,  as  a  point  of 
pure  logic,  medicine  must  be  good  for  bunions, 
but  as  a  means  of  bringing  sleep  upon  little 
boys  —  manifestly  that  was  unjust  and  ridic 
ulous. 

Having  disposed  of  the  poppied  menace,  the 
telltale  bottle  remained.  Alarmed  by  this  fact, 
Muggins  ran  out  and  was  in  the  act  of  hiding 
the  bottle  under  the  fence  when  an  idea  popped 
up  in  his  mind.  All  sorts  of  things  were  in 
the  habit  of  popping  up  in  Muggins's  mind, 
among  them  occasionally  a  real  idea.  The  con 
tents  of  the  bottle  had  been  of  a  milky  hue. 
Slipping  the  empty  bottle  inside  his  jacket, 
Muggins  awaited  an  opportunity,  and  after 
supper  filled  the  bottle  with  water,  adding  a 


84  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

little  cream  from  the  cream-jug  and  a  pinch 
of  sugar.  The  next  day  Lady  Mother  was  sur 
prised  and  pleased  that  Tollie  took  the  medi 
cine  so  nicely,  and  even  Muggins  had  to  have 
a  swallow  of  it,  since,  as  he  declared,  he  felt 
prickly  and  restless,  which  no  doubt  was  true. 
The  closing  meal  of  the  day,  made  mem 
orable  by  Muggins's  "  real  idea/'  having  been 
hurriedly  eaten,  Pa  kissed  Lady  Mother  and 
the  guileless  culprit,  seized  his  full  lunch-pail, 
and  strode  over  to  the  roundhouse  to  give  Big 
Susan  a  lookover  before  the  hostler  should 
bring  the  mighty  iron  maiden  out  on  the  main 
track.  Jack  Tarney  was  particular  about  some 
things,  Big  Susan  being  one  of  the  things.  He 
had  a  strong  and  justified  affection  for  her,  the 
machine  being  one  of  the  greatest  and  safest 
in  the  mountains.  She  was  a  Baldwin  com 
pound,  using  her  steam  in  two  sets  of  cylinders 

V 

and  gaining  enormous  power  thereby;  she  had 
eight  drivers  and  weighed  270,000  pounds,  and 
she  held  her  head  high  and  snorted  defiance 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     85 

to  things  both  small  and  great.  To  drive  such 
an  embodiment  of  power,  to  hold  the  reins  over 
such  a  creature,  feeling  the  beautiful  monster 
obedient  to  the  iron  bit,  was  quite  enough  to 

„ _JU— . _ 

make  a  man  proud  of  and  particular  about  the 
business.  But  a  "  real  idea,'7  hatched  even  in 
a  child's  brain,  is  sometimes  of  greater  potency 
than  an  engine's  strength  or  a  man's  care  and 
pride  —  it  embodies  Destiny  itself. 

As  Jack  Tarney,  perched  in  the  cab  on  the 
right-hand  shoulder  of  Big  Susan,  rolled  east 
ward  over  the  Paley  Fork  switches  that  eve 
ning,  he  looked  over  at  the  cottage.  The  man 
who  leaves  home  to  ride  over  mountains  on 
a  creature  whose  bowels  are  filled  with  fire  and 
hot  steam  cannot  always  feel  sure  that  he  is 
coming  back.  There  is  ever  the  haggard  Pos 
sible  lurking  beyond  the  Probable.  His  gaze 
lingered  on  the  roof  as  it  melted  out  of  view; 
the  "  little  white  feller  "was  there,  and  down 
in  the  lighted  sitting-room  no  doubt  Lady 
Mother  was  sewing  by  the  nickel-trimmed 


86  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

stove,  and  over  by  the  north  window  —  it  really 
would  be  nice  and  funny  if  Muggins  could  use 
four  silver  dollars  as  drivers  for  his  engine! 
But  that  would  be  altogether  too  profligate. 
Hard  coal,  and  lots  of  other  things,  were  too 
costly  in  Colorado. 

The  stars  came  out  over  the  mountains, 
swimming  goldenly  in  big  blue  pools  of  sky 
among  drifting  islands  of  fleece;  the  wind 
sucked  cold  against  his  face  in  the  canyons  when 
he  leaned  out,  peering  anxiously  ahead  around 
the  curves,  for  they  were  running  as  the  second 
section  of  freight  Number  12.  By  times  he  saw 
the  rear  lamps  of  the  first  section,  two  crim 
son  eyes,  whisked  out  of  sight  beyond  jutting 
rocks  or  glaring  back  from  some  lifting  grade, 
perhaps  a  mile  away.  By  ten  o'clock  they  were 
well  up  the  twisting  slopes  of  the  Cradle 
Range,  by  eleven  they  were  upon  the  summit. 
The  moon  came  up,  slicing  the  scud  like  a  col 
ter  of  pearl ;  the  wind  blew  in  brisk,  cold  puffs ; 
the  mountains  looked  like  vast  heaps  of  ashes. 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     87 

It  was  still  forty  miles  to  Barn  Butte,  the 
division  station,  down  among  the  hills  near  the 
plains  country.  Tarney  got  out  his  lunch-pail 
from  the  seat-box  and  began  to  eat  and  drink. 

"  This  coffee  tastes  sort  of  funny  —  chicory 
or  varnish  or  something,"  was  his  mental  com 
ment.  "  Guess  it's  the  cream  —  kind  of  stale 
twang;  reckon  that  Swede  milkman  must  feed 
his  cows  rubber  boots. "  Nevertheless  he 
drained  the  tank. 

As  he  dropped  the  pail  in  the  seat-box  he 
glanced  ahead.  The  red  lamps  were  two  or 
three  miles  below.  "  McCracken  is  hittin'  her 
up  in  great  shape  to-night,"  he  ruminated.  He 
leaned  back  and  squinted  around  the  boiler- 
head  at  the  fireman.  The  man  down  on  the 
fuel-deck  looked  like  a  perspiring  negro.  He 
had  pulled  the  furnace  door  open  and,  bowing 
in  the  reddish  glare,  was  washing  his  grimy 
face  and  arms  in  a  bucket  of  water.  Big  Susan 
would  need  but  little  steam  through  the  next 
twenty-five  miles. 


88  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

They  rolled  downward,  following  the  glim 
mering  rails  around  jutting  heads  and  across 
wide  slopes,  over  fills  and  through  cuts  that 
were  mimic  canyons,  but  always  downward. 
Here  and  there  they  caught  glimpses  of  the 
crimson  eyes  winking  back  at  them  and  whisk 
ing  out  of  view.  Once  the  crimson  eyes  seemed 
not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  again  they  were 
surely  a  mile  distant.  Tarney  began  to  grow 
fearfully  sleepy.  The  feeling  frightened  him. 
He  kicked  the  footboard  roughly  and  rubbed 
his  forehead,  he  hung  out  the  window  and  drew 
down  great  breaths  of  cold  air.  Effort  and  air 
did  no  good;  his  eyelids  were  fringed  with 
lead,  a  great  robe  of  content,  downy,  delicious, 
was  enfolding  him.  He  tore  at  it,  pushed  it 
back,  he  hated  it,  yet  it  wrapped  him  closer, 
filling  him  with  dreamy  warmth  and  pleasure. 
He  pushed  up  his  eyelids  with  his  oily  fingers 
and  tried  to  look  at  his  watch.  They  must  stop 
at  Dander  for  orders  —  both  sections ;  he  must 
shut  off  and  use  air  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     89 

west  of  the  station;  McCracken  would  prob 
ably  be  there  —  then  his  eyes  closed  and  the 
clanking  noises  of  the  engine  became  music, 
and  he  was  suddenly  walking  through  a  valley 
that  was  full  of  sun  and  summer  and  jingling 
streams,  and  Muggins  was  with  him,  and  Mug 
gins  had  four  silver  dollars  which  he  threw  up 
in  the  air,  and  the  dollars  became  white  doves 
and  flew  away  singing  like  thrushes.  Then 
Muggins  himself  began  to  sing  like  a  thrush, 
and  Tarney  was  astonished  that  Muggins  could 
sing  so  beautifully;  but  presently  Muggins 
began  to  play  a  mouth-organ  that  made  a  noise 
like  a  steam  calliope,  and  the  mountains  on 
either  side  of  the  valley  hopped  angrily  toward 
them  and  butted  together  with  a  mighty,  crum 
bling  crash,  and  he  awoke  and  found  himself 
sprawling  among  stones  and  divers  fragments 
of  Big  Susan's  cab  near  Dander  station. 

The  body  of  Big  Susan  was  on  the  track, 
but  the  tender  and  the  next  three  cars  were 
splintered  and  flung  awry.  Big  Susan  had  the 


90  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

caboose  of  the  first  section  literally  on  her 
horns,  with  the  front  end  of  the  caboose 
jammed  through  the  bay-window  of  the  sta 
tion  into  the  telegraph  office.  Several  persons 
had  broken  bones;  Tarney  himself  had  a  dis 
located  shoulder  and  sundry  bruises,  but  hap 
pily  no  life  had  been  sacrificed  to  Muggins's 
"  idea." 

It  was  a  clear  case.  Jack  Tarney  had  slept 
and  let  his  engine  into  the  first  section  of 
freight  Number  12.  Superintendent  Burke 
brought  him  in  "  on  the  carpet,"  but  it  was 
hardly  worth  while;  only  one  verdict  was  pos 
sible  —  his  ' '  time  ' '  and  the  privilege  of  look 
ing  for  employment  elsewhere. 

Tarney  execrated  his  stupidity  and  nursed 
his  hurts  in  ignorance  of  their  primary  cause, 
Lady  Mother  was  shocked  and  beset  with  ap 
prehensions,  Muggins  hid  his  head  under  the 
bedclothes  at  night,  for  he  most  distinctly 
"  saw  things."  He  would  fain  have  unbos 
omed  himself,  but  the  horrifying  immensity  of 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     91 

the  thing  —  broken  bones,  wrecked  trains,  and 
his  father  discharged !  His  hair  evinced  a  pro 
nounced  determination  to  stand  on  end  when 
he  thought  of  it.  What  sort  of  punishment 
would  be  meted  him  for  the  perpetration  of 
such  a  crime?  That  thought  also  made  his  hair 
lift.  A  six-year-old  boy  is  usually  painfully 
frank ;  a  six-year-old  boy  confronted  by  a  prob 
able  personal  cataclysm  is  sometimes  painfully 
reticent.  Muggins  grew  pale  and  without  ap 
petite,  but  he  kept  his  great  secret.  However, 
his  burden  grew  somewhat  lighter  upon  hear 
ing  his  father  one  day  comfort  Lady  Mother 
with  the  statement  that,  as  soon  as  his  shoulder 
were  healed,  he  was  going  down  to  the  Queen 
Cove  Mine  to  work,  thus  assuring  them  bread 
until  spring,  when  he  would  sell  the  cottage  and 
seek  an  engineer's  position  east  of  the  moun 
tains. 

It  was  late  January  when  Tarney  went  down 
to  the  Queen  Cove,  and  in  March  fell  the  hap 
pening  that  set  things  right.  On  the  Western 


92  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Central  the  affair  is  spoken  of  by  many  as  the 
strangest  accident  in  the  history  of  the  road; 
by  the  devout  it  has  been  pointed  to  as  a  mir 
acle.  The  writer  confesses  that  to  his  mind 
something  more  than  senseless  chance  and 
blind  coincidence  look  to  have  been  at  work  — 
if  these  were  the  only  elements,  then  chance 
and  coincidence  call  for  reverence. 

The  Queen  Cove  Mine  was  oddly  situated; 
had  this  not  been  so  the  miracle  —  or  tragic 
incident,  as  you  please  —  could  not  have  fallen. 
The  mine  lay  in  a  kind  of  cove,  a  wide-lipped 
bore  in  the  solid  base  of  Silver  Mountain, 
thirty-seven  miles  east  of  Paley  Fork.  At  that 
point  the  Sandrill  River,  twisting  down  from 
the  mountains  of  the  northwest,  whips  its  way 
into  the  Cradle  Eange,  cutting  southward 
around  the  eastern  base  of  Silver  Mountain. 
Doubtless  in  some  former  age  its  obstructed 
waters  gnawed  into  the  foundation  of  the 
mountain,  leaving  the  vast  excavation  known 
as  Queen  Cove.  This  striking  example  of  the 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     93 

power  of  erosive  forces  was  some  four  hundred 
feet  wide  at  the  mouth  and  nearly  half  a  mile 
deep;  its  walls  jutted  outward  for  the  most 
part  and  were  from  six  to  eight  hundred  feet 
high.  No  human  foot  had  ever  scaled  those 
beetling  ramparts.  Near  the  most  inner  point 
of  the  great  burrow  a  thin  stream,  during  the 
wet  season,  leaped  down  from  the  heights  and 
battered  itself  into  mist  on  the  stone  floor.  At 
one  side  a  tunnel  entered  the  rock  formation, 
driven  in  on  a  narrow  vein  of  gold-bearing 
conglomerate  almost  on  a  level  with  the  floor  of 
the  strange  enclosure.  Working  in  this  small 
mine  were  eighteen  men ;  in  the  cove  were  three 
flimsy  shacks  and  a  boarding-house  shed.  The 
wives  and  children  of  three  of  the  miners  were 
housed  in  the  shacks,  the  other  miners  were 
unmarried  or  had  families  elsewhere,  Jack 


Tarney,    after    his    arrival,    being    numbered 
among  the  latter. 

V       ^^^r 

Eunning  southeastward  across  the  mouth  of 
the  cove  foamed  the  cold  waters  of  the  Sand- 


94  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

rill;  the  track  of  the  Western  Central  also 
crossed  its  outer  opening,  squeezed  in  between 
the  river  and  the  cove.  A  mile  farther  down 
the  river  lay  Bridge  Station,  a  small  station, 
near  which  the  track  of  the  Western  Central 
crossed  the  Sandrill  and  made  eastward  over 
the  main  body  of  the  Cradle  Range.  From 
the  little  mine  in  the  cove  a  mule  trail  wound 
down  to  Bridge  Station,  following  the  track  and 
the  river,  and  at  that  time  the  ore  from  the 
Queen  Cove  went  in  sacks  by  muleback  to  the 
station  for  shipment.  That  was  the  situation 
when  Muggins  did  the  deed. 

Clearly,  if,  during  the  period  of  high  water 
and  ice-flow,  the  Sandrill  should  become  seri 
ously  obstructed  and  its  flood  thrown  into 
Queen  Cove,  as  was  probably  the  case  when  the 
cove  was  chiseled  out  of  the  mountain,  the 
dwellers  there  would  meet  a  sorry  fate.  Never 
in  the  known  history  of  the  region  had  this 
peril  fallen,  but  on  the  sixteenth  day  of  March, 
following  Tarney's  advent  at  the  mine,  it  came. 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     95 

The  Sandrill  was  straining  its  banks  at  that 
time  and  was  sprinkled  with  eddying  masses 
of  shattered  ice.  While  it  was  yet  dark  on  that 
morning  some  of  the  sleepers  in  the  little  camp 
in  the  cove  were  awakened  by  the  jarring  of 
the  mountain  and  a  muffled  thunder  of  noise  in 
the  outer  canyon.  They  slept  again  and  awoke 
in  ice-cold  water.  Acres  of  snow,  breaking 
from  a  high  shoulder  of  Silver  Mountain  and 
hurling  with  it  scores  of  pines  and  train-loads 
of  dirt  and  stones,  had  tobogganed  down  into 
Sandrill  Canyon,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  the 
cove,  stopping  the  flow  of  the  river  as  by  magic. 
The  engorging  mass  lay  across  the  railroad 
track  and  filled  the  bed  of  the  stream  from 
thirty  to  fifty  feet  deep  —  at  points  it  was  two 
hundred  feet  wide.  Given  time,  the  river 
would  eat  a  channel  through  the  obstruction, 
but  in  the  meantime  the  people  in  Queen  Cove 
—  they  were  as  rats  in  a  flooded  hole. 

Jack  Tarney  jumped  out  of  his  bunk  in  water 
that  came  to  his  thighs  and  out  the  door  into 


96  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

a  flood  breast  deep.  Dawn  was  breaking  and 
the  cove  was  filled  with  a  greenish  light;  the 
vast  walls  soared  about  him,  furrowed,  bulging, 
dank;  the  whole  area  of  the  cove  was  awash 
with  a  flood  the  currents  of  which  ran  twisting 
and  pushing  everywhere;  the  place  echoed 
with  human  cries.  The  chill  of  the  water  cut 
to  his  marrow.  He  glanced  toward  the  cove's 
mouth;  the  Sandrill  was  rolling  over  the  rail 
road  track  in  a  steel-gray  sheet  three  hundred 
feet  wide,  emptying  its  impeded  waters  into 
the  cove  in  angry  madness.  Shocked  beyond 
expression  by  the  awful  situation,  he  swayed 
in  the  water  for  a  moment,  then  lunged  for 
ward,  spurred  by  the  instinct  of  self-preserva 
tion.  The  long,  low  building  used  as  a  board 
ing-house  lifted  and  turned  over  and  rolled  like 
a  log,  crushing  and  tearing  in  pieces ;  the  three 
little  shacks  were  driving  toward  the  inner 
curve  of  the  cove.  A  man  splashed  by  Tarney, 
half-swimming,  half-pushing  himself  by  his 
toes  on  the  rocky  bottom. 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     97 

"  What's  happened?  Where  are  the  women 
and  children!  "  shouted  Tarney. 

The  man  was  gulping  and  strangling. 
"  Most  of  'em  and  most  of  th'  men  air  in  the 
tunnel  —  they  run  in  there  w'en  th'  water 
begun  comin'  in,"  he  sputtered. 

"Fools!  They'll  be  smothered,  they'll  be 
drowned  like  gophers,"  cried  Tarney,  turning 
toward  the  tunnel.  But  why  should  he  try  to 
enter  the  rapidly  filling  hole,  why  should  he 
attempt  the  utterly  impossible?  A  strangling 
baby  washed  by  him ;  he  grasped  it  and  pushed 
toward  the  mouth  of  the  cove.  He  had  not 
gone  fifty  feet  before  he  was  beyond  his  depth 
and  fighting  for  life.  He  was  not  an  expert 
swimmer  and  was  compelled  to  use  one  hand 
to  hold  the  child's  head  above  the  water.  Near 
the  railroad  track  he  was  swept  twice  around 
a  long  circle  by  the  angry  current.  As  he  went 
round  he  saw  a  man  sink  not  far  from  him  and 
caught  a  glimpse  of  objects  in  the  cove;  the 
shacks  were  rolling  and  bumping  against  the 


98  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

jutting  walls,  mules  were  struggling  in  the 
water  and  upset  wagons  washing  about;  at 
one  side  a  man  and  woman  were  clinging  to 
a  projecting  ledge ;  at  the  farthest  point  three 
men  and  a  little  girl  had  drawn  themselves  up 
on  some  knotted  humps  of  stone.  The  six  peo 
ple  he  caught  sight  of  possibly  were  safe,  but 
the  human  beings  in  the  tunnel !  The  drift  as 
cended  slightly,  but  if  the  water  rose  to  a  depth 
of  ten  feet  on  the  floor  of  the  cove  the  tunnel 
would  fill  solidly  to  its  inner  end !  Then  inevi 
table  death  must  seize  all  who  had  fled  into  it 
for  safety. 

A  vision  of  this  glimmered  in  Tarney's  mind 
as  he  was  borne  round  in  the  ice-sprinkled 
flood,  then  suddenly  he  was  whipped  into  a 
current  that  was  like  a  mill-race  and  carried 
downward  between  the  mountain  wall  and  the 
water-covered  railroad  track.  He  whirled 
along  for  perhaps  a  hundred  yards  when  he 
was  swept  into  a  wide  eddy  and  thrown  out 
upon  some  projecting  rocks,  where  he  clutched 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY     99 

fast  and  drew  himself  up,  struggling  hard  for 
breath.  He  still  held  the  child;  it  began  to 
cry.  He  was  racked  with  pain  and  inexpressi 
bly  cold.  He  folded  the  child  close  in  his  arms ; 
it  was  quaking  and  purple.  He  looked  abroad 
and  saw  the  wreckage  of  the  avalanche  —  the 
wide  mass  of  snow  and  debris  that  clogged  the 
canyon,  the  river  coiling  and  pushing  as  in  mad 
ness  against  this  barrier,  and  turning  back  and 
rolling  into  Queen  Cove,  angrily  seeking  an 
outlet.  The  man  shuddered ;  the  freezing  flood 
was  wide,  a  perpendicular  wall  was  at  his  back, 
he  saw  no  present  means  of  escape.  The  ris 
ing  sun  flung  a  scarlet  beam  down  from  the 
eastern  mountains;  the  fragments  of  ice 
seemed  to  take  fire.  He  thought  of  the  "  little 
white  feller  "  and  Muggins  and  Lady  Mother; 
they  must  be  getting  up  about  now.  Should  he 
ever  see  them  again? 

But  Lady  Mother  and  Muggins  had  been  up 
for  quite  two  hours.  That  was  delightful  des 
tiny —  to  the  imperiled  folk  in  Queen  Cove 


100          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

really  the  greatest  thing  that  ever  happened. 
Muggins  was  coming  down  to  see  his  father, 
and  the  fashion  and  sequence  of  his  journey 
is  one  of  the  great  stories  of  the  Western  Cen 
tral.  Bob  Hammond,  who  now  handled  the 
throttle  of  Tarney's  engine,  was  bringing  the 
young  hater  of  soothing-syrup  down  to  the 
cove.  Lady  Mother,  with  many  expressed 
hopes  that  he  might  be  a  good  boy  and  not  get 
into  mischief,  had  brought  Muggins  over  to  the 
yards  and  put  him  aboard  Big  Susan  at  5.15 
in  the  morning.  Bob  was  taking  Big  Susan 
through  to  Barn  Butte  to  bring  a  special  west ; 
he  would  take  good  care  of  Muggins  and  drop 
him  off  at  the  cove  all  right,  he  said.  Muggins, 
jocund  with  glee  and  expectation,  climbed  up 
on  the  fireman's  side  of  the  cab,  and  Big  Susan 
rolled  out  through  the  switches. 

She  tramped  along  the  track  down  Paley 
Valley  steadily  that  morning,  followed  the  steel 
through  the  hills  that  fringe  the  Cradle  Eange, 
then  climbed  around  to  the  north  side  of  Silver 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY   101 

Mountain.  Here,  at  High  Pine  station,  Ham 
mond  shut  off  and  jumped  to  the  ground.  Day 
light  was  upon  the  world,  a  glory  was  welling 
over  the  eastern  mountains  like  blood-red 
smoke. 

"  Come  on,  Turner,"  he  shouted  to  the  fire 
man;  "  let's  get  some  coffee  at  Mother  Ma 
son's;  she's  up,  I  see.  Nothing  leaving  the 
Fork  until  8.20  and  Number  6  isn't  due  at 
Bridge  Station  until  7.06 ;  let  the  engine  stand. 
You  never  had  any  of  Mother  Mason's  coffee? 
"Well,  it's  the  juice  all  right.  She  pounds  the 
coffee  fine  and  hangs  it  in  a  bag  in  the  pot  and 
lets  it  drip;  great  stuff.  Say,  kid,  you  better 
come  along,  too." 

Muggins  shook  his  head.  He  was  munching 
a  fried  cake  and  had  his  organs  of  speech  fully 
occupied. 

"Well,  don't  monkey  with  things,"  said 
Hammond,  as  he  and  the  fireman  started  across 
the  right  of  way  to  Mother  Mason's. 

Muggins  had  been  deeply  interested  in  every 


102          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

element  of  the  journey  thus  far,  but  when  the 
two  men  had  entered  the  little  house  his  curi 
osity  and  interest  quickened.  He  mounted  the 
engineer's  seat  and  his  brown  eyes  glowed.  He 
put  his  hands  resolutely  behind  his  back  and 
refrained  for  a  little  time  from  touching  any 
thing,  but  there  was  the  throttle-lever,  a  thing 
of  marvels,  a  rod  to  conjure  with!  It  fasci 
nated  Muggins.  His  father  had  once  shown 
him  how  to  start  an  engine;  some  day  he  him 
self  was  going  to  be  an  engineer;  why  should 
he  not  begin  practising?  He  laid  hold  of  the 
shining  iron  and  gripped  and  pushed  and 
tugged  at  it.  Suddenly  it  went  over  a  bit,  and 
as  suddenly  steam  spouted  from  the  exhaust 
cocks,  and  Big  Susan  moved  away,  making  for 
Queen  Cove  and  her  part  in  the  Queen  Cove 
tragedy. 

Through  a  little  space  Muggins  laughed  and 
rejoiced,  then  he  glanced  back  and  saw  two 
men  burst  out  from  Mother  Mason's  door,  hat- 
less,  white-faced,  yelling.  He  essayed  to  stop 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY   103 

the  engine  then,  but  could  not;  panic,  fiery, 
terrifying,  gripped  him.  He  cried  aloud  and 
ran  back  and  forth  across  the  fuel-deck,  the 
world  was  whirling  rearward  on  either  side  of 
him;  he  crept  into  the  gangway  and  looked 
down,  the  earth  flowed  back  beneath  him  in  a 
gray  and  dizzying  sheet ;  he  crept  into  the  cab 
and  scrambled  to  the  fireman's  seat  and  hid 
his  face  in  the  cushion,  calling  wildly  on  Lady 
Mother.  Every  atom  of  the  mighty  engine 
seemingly  began  to  hum  and  roar.  Thirteen 
miles  to  Queen  Cove  and  every  foot  of  it  down 
grade!  In  three  minutes  Big  Susan  began  to 
ring  her  bell,  she  rocked  and  rolled  so  violently. 
Using  steam  and  carried  downward  by  her  vast 
weight,  at  the  end  of  five  miles  she  had  attained 
a  frightful  speed.  Muggins,  pallid  and  wild- 
eyed,  simply  clutched  fast  to  whatever  was 
handiest.  The  long-nosed  oil-cans  leaped  in 
their  racks,  coal  shot  back  and  forth  across 
the  tender,  the  smoke  from  the  stack  streamed 
flat  along  the  boiler,  the  exhausts  pulsed  like 


104          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

fluttering  hearts.  Downward  the  engine 
rushed,  since  time  began  one  of  man's  most 
beautiful  and  terrible  creations.  On  the  curves 
all  her  iron  clanged  and  quivered;  on  the  short, 
straight  stretches  she  sprang  forward  as  if 
leaping  to  meet  some  mighty  task.  Did  angels, 
invisible  to  human  eyes,  fly  before  her,  leading 
her  to  the  rescue  of  the  imperilled  creatures 
at  Queen  Cove?  "Was  some  shielding  power 
thrown  round  the  little  being  in  the  engine  cab 
in  that  wild  hour?  Who  may  say?  In  the 
boy's  mind  was  only  terror  and  confusion;  he 
gasped  and  cried  aloud  and  was  pitched  from 
side  to  side.  In  the  world  around  him  the 
mountains  seemed  to  rise  and  twist,  huge  spurs 
of  rock  fell  and  melted  and  rushed  rearward, 
the  very  framework  of  things  seemed  hurling 
into  choas. 

Down  in  Queen  Cove  the  people  in  the  tunnel, 
driven  to  its  inner  end,  were  up  to  their  arm 
pits  in  water ;  men  held  children  on  their  shoul 
ders,  women  were  crying.  Death  whispered  in 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY  105 

the  flooded  cavern.  Out  in  the  canyon  Jack 
Tarney  hung  among  the  cold  rocks,  the  rescued 
baby  in  his  arms ;  they  shook  and  quivered  to 
gether.  The  rising  water  heaved  and  turned 
and  broadened,  then  sounds  fell  upon  it,  a  flight 
of  echoes  sweeping  down  the  canyon,  palpitat 
ing,  swelling,  bursting  finally  into  jarring  thun 
der,  then  the  man  saw  that  which  will  remain 
with  him  until  his  last  breath. 

Like  a  creature  from  another  world  Big 
Susan  crossed  the  mouth  of  Queen  Cove.  She 
seemed  flying ;  the  water  that  covered  the  rails, 
smitten  and  divided  by  her  hurling  front, 
dashed  up  over  her  fifty  feet  high  and  bent 
backward  like  enormous  glittering  wings;  im 
mediately  about  her  black  body,  springing  up 
from  the  inundated  fire-box,  rolled  a  white  cloud 
of  steam;  thus  like  some  sort  of  stupendous 
creature,  borne  on  crystal  pinions,  she  swooped 
against  the  prone  body  of  the  avalanche.  Her 
speed  was  surely  a  hundred  miles  an  hour,  and 
her  270,000  pounds  of  iron  tore  a  way  through 


106          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  snow  and  debris  as  a  bullet  might  tear 
through  paper.  Tarney  was  covered  by  the 
water  that  fell  behind  her  as  she  passed;  he 
heard  an  indescribable,  thunderous  crash,  and 
looked  and  saw  the  pent  waters  of  the  river 
rolling  out  through  the  great  gash  Big  Susan 
had  cut  in  the  barrier,  and  knew  that  life  still 
remained  the  heritage  of  all  in  Queen  Cove. 

They  found  Big  Susan  lying  against  the  side 
of  Silver  Mountain  three  hundred  feet  below 
the  snowslide.  She  was  stripped  from  end  to 
end.  In  the  wreck  of  the  cab  lay  Muggins, 
white  as  the  snow  and  as  still.  Both  of  the  seat 
cushions  were  around  him  —  whether  he  placed 
them  there  he  does  not  know;  if  they  protected 
him  or  not  no  man  can  tell.  Afterward,  when 
he  lay  in  Lady  Mother's  bed  in  Paley  Fork 
and  the  company's  surgeon  said  he  would  be 
all  right  in  a  week  or  two,  he  began  to  cry. 

"  I  wants  t'  'fess,"  he  sobbed;  "  I  poured 
th'  sleep-stuff  in  Pa's  coffee-tank,  so  I  did.  He 
said  he  could  drink  a  quart  of  the  ole  stuff,  he 


DESTINY  AND  A  SMALL  BOY   107 

did,  and  he  couldn't,  so  he  couldn't,  an'  it 
sleeped  him,  so  it  did,  an'  I'm  sorry,  so  I  am. 
But  Big  Susan  can  run  thess  faster  an'  any 
thing,  so  she  can;  I  found  it  out,  so  I  did." 

Lady  Mother  sent  for  Superintendent  Burke 
and  Burke  sent  for  Jack  Tarney,  and  after  a 
time,  when  Big  Susan  had  been  put  through 
the  shops,  Jack  again  held  her  throttle,  but  no 
run  ever  made  by  Tarney  quite  equalled  the 
historic  run  made  by  his  son  Muggins  when  he 
broke  the  dam  at  Queen  Cove. 

It  was  not  until  after  Wadd  Hancock's  part 
in  the  wreck  at  Puma  Point,  a  spot  not  far 
from  Queen  Cove,  that  any  one,  apparently, 
thought  of  Muggins  as  being  entitled  to  the 
Diamond  Key.  His  adventure,  to  be  sure,  had 
unlocked  all  hearts  to  him,  but,  since  he  had 
achieved  a  great  thing  without  intention  or 
purpose,  it  did  not  occur  to  us  that  he  was  en 
titled  to  more  than  a  species  of  reverence  and 
admiring  wonder.  However,  by  the  time  Wadd 
had  given  us,  nearly  a  year  later,  his  example 


108          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

of  personal  daring,  we  had  thought  a  good  deal 
about  Muggins,  and  some  one,  I  think  it  was 
Manvell,  suggested  that  if  Providence  had 
acted  through  the  boy,  or  even  Chance,  he 
ought  to  be  decorated  as  the  chosen  instrument, 
even  though  an  unconscious  hero. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   CKEPE   DE   CHINE   TOECH 

HOW  he  achieved  the  thing  is,  of  course,  a 
matter  of  record.  Burke  7s  private  jour 
nal  of  heroic  feats  on  the  Western  Central  con 
tains  an  account  of  it,  entered  by  the  superin 
tendent  himself  in  plain  black  and  white.  But 
the  "  why "  of  it  is  scarcely  indicated  in 
Burke 's  chronicle,  matters  of  the  heart  not  be 
ing  likely  to  figure  conspicuously  in  a  railroad 
superintendent's  record  of  "  signal  instances 
of  bravery,  presence  of  mind,  and  fidelity  to 
duty  in  employees. ' '  Hence  this  fuller  history. 
Waddington  Hancock,  as  a  name,  seemed  in 
dicative  of  estate  and  functions  rather  beyond 
the  pretensions  and  appearance  of  the  young 
fellow,  but  he  always  dashed  the  title  upon  the 
Western  Central  pay-roll  with  a  flourish  good 

109 


110          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

to  see.  His  chirography  had  something  of  the 
large  boldness  of  John  Hancock's  signature 
to  the  Declaration  of  Independence.  It  pre 
sented  the  same  scorn  of  space,  together  with 
a  carelessness  of  position  and  direction  and  a 
bounding  swoop  of  line  and  curve  that  even  the 
famous  Declarer's  signature  could  not  boast. 
It  was  also  commonly  emphasized  on  the  pale 
blue  sheet  by  thumb  and  finger  marks  eloquent 
of  coal  and  smutted  waste,  for  a  locomotive 
fireman  does  not  usually  wash  his  hands  before 
jumping  out  of  the  gangway  to  scramble  into 
the  pay-car  after  his  "  dough."  The  roll-clerk 
invariably  squirmed  with  appreciation  of  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  space  that  was  being 
occupied  as  he  watched  the  construction  of  the 
signature,  but  Martin  Bonner,  paymaster,  who 
himself  always  handed  the  checks  across  the 
tiny  counter  of  the  Gazelle,  usually  laughed 
and  rubbed  his  florid  bald  head  and  winked. 
The  young  man's  signature  was,  somehow, 
singularly  consonant  with  his  physical  aspect. 


CRfiPE  DE   CHINE   TORCH    111 

He  had  long  feet,  long,  well-shaped  hands,  a 
straight  steel-post  sort  of  body,  a  backward 
springing  spine,  and  a  round,  yellowish,  hand 
some  head.  His  eyes  were  not  large  but  dis 
turbingly  direct  and  of  a  laughing,  gleaming 
blue.  With  his  quick,  bold,  erect  air  he  had  a 
soft,  musical  voice  and  usually  was  sparing  of 
words.  Once,  anent  a  quip  of  Bonner's  rela 
tive  to  his  soft  voice,  the  young  fellow  winked 
and  said: 

"  Do  I  write  loud  enough?  " 

"  Loud!  "  laughed  Bonner;  "  your  writing 
is  simply  thunder!  " 

The  fireman  winked  again  peculiarly,  and, 
taking  his  check,  went  out  of  the  pay-car. 

One  thing,  Wadd  liked  to  sing.  That  was 
his  weakness,  or  his  strength,  as  one  is  pleased 
to  view  it.  Wadd's  path  homeward  did  not 
naturally  lie  by  way  of  the  residence  of  Master 
Mechanic  Addicks,  but  with  the  advent  of 
Daffy  Tuttle,  his  niece,  a  subtle  influence 
seemed  always  to  persuade  his  feet  to  make 


112          THE   DIAMOND    KEY 

the  little  journey  by  that  particular  street,  and 
it  was  noticeable  that  his  vocal  performance 
invariably  reached  its  climax  in  the  immediate 
region  of  the  Addicks'  home.  Wadd  being  en 
gaged  in  firing  passenger  on  the  East  End  — 
that  is,  from  Paley  Fork  to  Denver  and  return 
—  the  schedule  put  him  down  at  the  Fork  near 
midnight,  with  the  result  that  the  M.  M.,  being 
awakened  by  the  youth's  soaring  tenor,  had 
frequent  occasion  to  shift  his  iron-gray  head 
upon  his  pillow  and  profane  the  darkness  with 
protesting  vocables.  But  always  there  was 
something  of  a  wholly  different  sort  exuding 
from  one  of  the  gable  windows:  something 
that  sounded  like  the  very  soft  clapping  to 
gether  of  little  hands,  tender,  approving,  sym 
pathetic.  Tommy  Loomis,  one  of  our  way 
operators  in  the  despatcher's  office,  touched 
with  suspicious  restlessness  since  Daffy's  ar 
rival,  had  unwisely  attempted  a  sneering  stric 
ture  relative  to  "  her  coal-pounding  boy 
soprano,"  with  the  result  that  Daffy's  black 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  113 

eyes  had  grown  fiery  as  she  announced  the 
opinion  that  ' l  pounding  coal  for  the  fire-box  of 
the  big  1202  was  somewhat  more  manly  than 
pounding  the  brass  of  a  telegraph-key,  and 
that  Mr.  Hancock's  voice  was  not  soprano  but 
a  very  beautiful  high  tenor,"  which  was  quite 
sufficient  to,  and  did,  settle  Tommy.  It  was 
soon  clear,  at  least  to  most  of  us,  that  Daffy 
and  the  crack  fireman  of  the  East  End  were 
something  more  than  favorable  to  each  other. 
Daffy  —  her  real  name  was  Daphne  —  was 
from  up  Cheyenne  way.  Jack  Tuttle,  her 
father,  was  for  long  an  engineer  on  the  U.  P. 
He  was  pulling  the  Fast  Mail  when  he  was 
killed.  That  occurred  in  the  wreck  occasioned 
by  the  Blue  Eun  flood.  Addicks  was  also  from 
the  U.  P.  Therefore  Daffy,  though  the  expres 
sion  itself  rings  odd,  was  distinctly  of  railroad 
stock.  From  childhood  she  had  been  ac 
quainted  with  locomotives  and  locomotive  folk. 
Throttles,  cylinder  saddles,  balanced  valves,  ex 
haust  ports,  eccentrics,  check  valves,  injectors, 


114          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

air  drums,  rockers,  spring  hangers,  reverse 
levers,  and  the  like  were  well-nigh  as  familiar 
to  her  as  pins  and  needles.  She  had  seen  en 
gines  made,  or,  rather,  what  was  fully  as  en 
lightening,  she  had  many  times  seen  all  the 
parts  of  locomotives  disassociated,  repaired, 
and  reassembled.  She  had  played  in  round 
houses  and  car  shops  as  a  child,  had  held  the 
throttle  of  her  father's  engine  many  times  in 
tomboy  days,  and  still  liked  better  than  food  to 
hang  out  of  a  cab  window  and  feel  the  steel 
fabric  roll  and  plunge  as  she  watched  the 
drivers  dissolve  into  whirling  cobwebs  beneath 
her. 

Still,  Daffy  was  girlish  and  pretty  —  out 
rageously  pretty,  some  women  secretly  thought 
—  and  she  could  ' '  trim  ' '  hats  and  play  the 
piano.  Old  Addicks  had  been  heard  to  growl 
that  he  had  not  been  able  to  make  out  which 
was  the  more  likely  to  induce  lockjaw,  Daffy's 
playing  or  Wadd's  singing.  However,  the 
M.  M.  was  proverbially  ungracious  to  lovers. 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  115 

The  M.  M.  was  a  widower  (grass)  and  was 
acid  of  speech  and  porcupine  of  posture  touch 
ing  things  matrimonial.  His  experience  of  love 
and  marriage  had  apparently  left  a  deposit  of 
conclusions  in  his  mind  similar  in  irritating 
quality  to  pounded  glass  in  the  blood.  Never 
theless,  he  was  a  just  man,  or,  at  least,  aimed 
to  be. 

As  for  Daffy,  small  as  she  was,  she  was  a 
thing  of  magnitude  in  the  affairs  of  Paley 
Fork,  and  admittedly  Paley  Fork  was  blessed 
with  numerous  maids  and  matrons,  and  was  the 
abiding-place  of  men  who  measurably  quick 
ened  or  restricted  the  functioning  of  human 
life  throughout  a  good  many  leagues  both  east 
and  west.  There  was  something  peculiarly 
piquant  about  the  girl.  She  had  a  fashion  of 
glancing  around  quickly,  of  airily  tipping  her 
head  and  body  about,  of  poising  a  moment  to 
fling  out  a  word  or  note  of  laughter  and  hurry 
away,  that  suggested  a  little  brown  wren, 
bright-eyed,  jaunty,  deliciously  impudent. 


116          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

When,  on  her  way  to  the  post-office  or  the 
milliner's,  she  came  down  the  long  platform  of 
the  station,  gowned  in  white  pique,  small 
French  heels  tapping  on  the  hot  planks  and 
black  eyes  glancing  from  under  a  red  parasol 
that  looked  like  a  big,  lacy,  flopping  poppy, 
then  something  magnetic  and  unexplainable 
swept  through  the  division  offices.  At  any  rate, 
in  such  moments  apparently  half  our  number 
felt  it  necessary  to  seek  the  windows  in  search 
of  expected  trains,  fresh  air,  or  to  look  for 
some  one  out  in  the  yards. 

Over  in  the  great  roundhouse,  too,  when 
Daffy  came  down,  as  she  often  did,  clad  in  a 
golf  suit,  with  a  jockey  cap  skewered  to  a  top 
knot  of  tomboy  curls,  and  climbed  into  some 
outgoing  engine,  to  return  by  the  first  engine 
met  with  out  on  the  line,  there  was  a  swift  and 
nervous  adjustment  by  the  men  of  coat  collars, 
a  straightening  of  mustaches,  an  all-around  at 
tempt  to  look  pretty  that  was  pitiably  male. 
Truly,  it  looked  difficult  for  Wadd. 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  117 

Though  several  members  of  the  force  were 
"  languishing  "  at  Daffy,  the  stiff  est  obstruc 
tion  impeding  the  flow  of  Wadd's  inclination 
was  probably  Addicks's  antipathy.  Obviously 
the  fireman  was  very  much  in  the  master  me 
chanic's  power;  besides,  Daffy,  being  without 
living  parents  and  committed  to  her  uncle's 
keeping,  was  hardly  as  free  as  the  proverbial 
bird  in  the  matter  of  mating.  The  M.  M.  men 
tally  admitted  that  there  were  few  men  on  the 
Western  Central  who  could  keep  so  high  and 
even  a  pressure  of  steam  in  an  engine  boiler 
under  all  conditions  as  could  young  Hancock, 
but  he  did  hate  a  man  who  sang  high  tenor  and 
who  was  in  love.  Such  a  person  must  perforce 
be  contemptibly  weak.  The  M.  M.  himself  pos 
sessed  a  voice  like  a  bass-drum  with  loose  nails 
in  it ;  he  was  deep-chested,  big-headed,  grizzly ; 
as  for  love —  was  he  not  a  widower,  and  '  '  sour 
grass  "  at  that? 

But  back  of  his  personal  prejudice,  and  sink 
ing  deeper  roots  in  his  mind,  was  a  notion  that, 


118          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

at  heart,  Fireman  Hancock  was  a  coward  and 
a  quitter.  A  story  that  was  not  at  all  pretty 
had  come  up  to  us  from  the  K.  P.,  where  Wadd 
began  firing,  to  the  effect  that  the  young  man 
once  jumped  when  he  ought  to  have  stuck: 
that  his  desertion  of  an  engine  in  a  certain 
crisis  had  cost  human  lives.  Tommy  Loomis 
brought  the  story. 

Sifted,  the  main  facts  seemed  as  follows: 
Engine  999,  Lyon  engineer,  Hancock  fireman, 
pulling  a  K.  P.  express,  oddly  collided  head  on 
with  the  Fast  Mail  near  a  station  named  Peter 
Bend.  The  express  had  orders  to  hold  at  Peter 
Bend  for  the  mail,  but  went  by  the  station  very 
fast,  striking  the  mail  disastrously  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  beyond  the  station.  Lyon,  dead,  was 
found  close  to  the  station,  Hancock  was  found 
just  beyond  the  station  creeping  about  in  an 
open  lot  in  an  apparent  dazed  condition.  He 
had  jumped,  he  afterward  stated,  when  the 
engines  were  not  more  than  a  hundred  feet 
apart,  and  had  fancied  that  he  was  crawling 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  119 

back  to  warn  a  train  that  lie  thought  was  fol 
lowing.  He  stated,  also,  that  just  when  Lyon 
was  about  to  shut  off  steam  for  Peter  Bend 
the  driving-rod  on  the  right-hand  side  snapped, 
knocking  off  the  side  of  the  cab  and  killing 
Lyon  instantly;  that  both  the  reverse  appa 
ratus  and  throttle  lever  were  smashed  and 
could  not  be  operated;  that  he  had  tried  his 
best  to  reverse  and  shut  off,  but  found  it  im 
possible;  that  he  had  clung  to  the  engine  until 
death  breathed  in  his  face;  then  he  had 
jumped.  Just  how  he  had  got  back  nearly  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  and  into  the  open  lot  he  did 
not  clearly  know. 

From  certain  view-points  Wadd's  explana 
tion  of  his  personal  conduct  in  the  affair  looked 
fishy.  There  were  people  who  believed  that  he 
had  not  attempted  to  avert  the  wreck,  but  had 
quit  the  engine  in  panic  immediately  after  the 
breaking  of  the  driving-rod,  else  he  would  not 
have  been  found  so  near  the  station.  Lyon's 
engine  had  been  fearfully  shattered  in  the  col- 


120          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

lision  and  fell  upon  her  right  side,  crushing 
her  levers;  therefore  Wadd's  statement  could 
neither  be  verified  nor  disproved.  The  K.  P. 
people  had  been  willing  to  continue  him  in  their 
employ,  but  Wadd,  not  relishing  expressions  of 
doubt  and  hints  that  probably  his  cowardice 
had  occasioned  loss  of  life,  quit  in  wrathful 
disgust,  and  presently  came  to  the  Western 
Central.  The  odd  thing  is  that  history  should 
have  so  nearly  repeated  itself  for  Wadd,  that 
the  Puma  Point  tragedy  afterward  set  him  in 
a  theatre  of  action  so  closely  paralleling  the 
K.  P.  affair.  We  all  wondered  at  that. 

One  morning  in  February  the  M.  M.  sent  for 
Wadd.  The  youth  had  been  visiting  Daffy 
twice  each  week  and  indulging  nocturnal  carol- 
ings  along  her  street  through  several  months. 
He  was  fully  aware  that  he  had  rivals,  but  was 
beginning  to  feel  sure  of  his  place  in  her  es 
teem.  He  was  not  nearly  so  sure  of  his  place 
on  the  Western  Central.  As  he  walked  down 
to  the  roundhouse  he  wondered  if  Addicks  had 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  121 

not  concluded  to  push  him  from  his  position. 
It  certainly  looked  an  easy  solution  of  the 
Daffy  problem. 

Arriving  at  the  roundhouse,  the  M.  M.  led 
Wadd  to  the  1202,  and  there  angrily  took  him 
to  task  touching  the  condition  of  the  engine's 
crown-sheet.  Wadd  made  a  brief  examination 
and  explained,  showing  the  master  mechanic 
how,  owing  to  a  warp  occasioned  by  the  fur 
nace  coming  in  contact  with  snow,  the  dampers 
had  acted  defectively  during  the  run  ended  the 
night  before,  thus  endangering  the  crown- 
sheet.  Obviously,  the  fault  did  not  lie  with  the 
fireman;  at  least,  it  had  not  lain  within  his 
power  to  escape  the  risk  that  had  been  taken. 
Addicks  saw  this  but  was  the  more  enraged. 
He  had  hoped  that  Wadd  could  not  explain. 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  said,  impatiently  slamming 
a  wrench  into  a  tool-box,  "  you  are  an  excuse- 
maker,  anyway.  You  always  manage  to  creep 
'round  things." 

Wadd's  eyes  blazed  against  the  older  man's 


122          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

face  through  a  second  or  two.  "  On  the  con 
trary,  Mr.  Addicks,  I  never  creep  around  any 
thing,  and  I  shall  not  creep  around  you."  He 
spoke  steadily  but  with  rising  voice. 

"  Don't  brag,"  rasped  Addicks.  When 
angry  his  voice  was  as  soothing  as  the  sound 
of  a  saw  ripping  into  iron.  "  You  explained 
about  the  K.  P.  wreck,  I  understand,  but  I  don't 
believe  the  stuff  you  told  about  it,  not  a  word 
of  it.  You  crept  'round  the  truth,  in  my  opin 
ion,  and  what's  more,  I  believe  you  were  a 
coward  then  and  still  have  the  streak  in  you." 
At  heart  he  was  railing  about  Wadd  and  Daffy. 

"  What  makes  you  think  me  a  liar  and  a 
coward?  "  asked  Wadd  with  a  smile,  though 
his  nostrils  were  growing  thin  and  spotted. 

"  Because  no  man  with  straw-colored  hair 
and  a  tenor  voice  could  be  anything  else, ' '  said 
Addicks  brutally. 

The  fireman's  entire  face  went  greenish- 
white.  He  walked  close  up  to  the  master 
mechanic  and  looked  him  in  the  eyes  for  a 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  123 

moment,  then  suddenly  Addicks  felt  himself 
literally  lifted  by  the  throat  and  hurled  head 
long  into  one  of  the  roundhouse  ash-pits. 
When  he  had  scrambled  out,  and  had  secured 
a  crank-pin  with  which  to  brain  this  extraor 
dinary  creature,  Wadd  was  walking  out  of  the 
big  door,  erect  as  a  ramrod  and  reeking  con 
tempt  from  every  pore.  The  next  morning  he 
entered  the  office  of  the  master  mechanic  and 
said : 

"  Well,  have  you  my  time  made  out?  " 

"  I  never  discharge  employees  for  personal 
reasons,"  rasped  Addicks.  "  When  you've 
injured  the  company  you'll  get  your  time  quick 
enough.  Continue  your  present  run." 

Wadd  softened.  "  Mr.  Addicks,"  he  began, 
"  I  feel  like  I  had  been  too  hasty.  I  would 
like  to—" 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Drop  it,"  snapped 
the  old  man.  "  I'll  send  for  you  when  I  want 
you.  Good  morning." 

When,  a  few  minutes  later,  Wadd  came  by 


124          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  water-tank  on  his  way  home,  he  leaned 
against  an  upright  of  the  tank  and  strangled, 
ending  his  laugh  with  a  gasping  howl. 

But  Addicks  did  not  erase  himself  by  any 
means;  he  notified  Wadd  in  writing  to  keep 
away  from  the  house  and  his  niece.  He  hotly 
took  Daffy  to  task,  but  Daffy  only  twinkled 
her  black  eyes  and  kissed  him,  and  said  that 
of  course  Mr.  Hancock  should  come  to  the 
house  when  he  liked.  Addicks  ordered  her  to 
pack  her  things  and  go  back  to  Cheyenne  and 
remain  with  her  Aunt  Sue,  Addicks 's  sister; 
but  Daffy  never  budged.  She  laughingly  as 
sured  him  that  she  knew  precisely  what  he 
needed,  and  that  was  for  some  one  of  exactly 
her  age  and  particular  style  of  beauty  to  play 
the  piano  and  assist  the  housekeeper  to  spend 
his  money ;  so  she  remained. 

In  the  headquarters  building  we  chuckled; 
truth,  for  once,  was  almost  as  attractive  as 
fiction.  Superintendent  Burke  told  the  master 
mechanic  to  discharge  Wadd  at  once.  The 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  125 

idea !  Such  insubordination  could  not  be  coun 
tenanced  for  an  instant.  Addicks  refused 
point-blank.  Burke  said  he  would  himself  dis 
charge  the  fireman.  Addicks  said  if  he  did  he 
would  have  to  discharge  him,  also.  Truth  was 
leaving  fiction  far  to  the  rear!  Addicks  said 
the  affair  was  a  personal  one;  he  had  called 
the  young  man  a  coward;  the  fireman  had  not 
responded  exactly  like  one.  The  M.  M.  would 
like  well  enough  to  get  rid  of  him,  but  not  in 
that  way.  Burke  washed  his  hands  of  the 
affair. 

Though  Daffy  had  said  that,  of  course,  Wadd 
should  come  to  see  her  whenever  he  chose,  the 
fireman  refused  to  put  his  foot  across  Ad 
dicks  's  threshold.  When  Daffy  met  him  and 
urged  him  to  call  he  laughingly  dissented. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  right,  hardly  decent,  it 
seems  to  me,"  he  said.  "  The  gov'nor's  word 
goes  when  it  comes  to  his  own  house.  He  don't 
need  to  get  out  a  Government  injunction.  He 
owns  his  home,  but  he  doesn't  own  you,  little 


126          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

girl;  that's  diamonds  of  a  different  water,  you 
know. ' ' 

Daffy  suggested  that  she  might  meet  him 
once  a  week  at  the  home  of  a  common  friend. 
Wadd  shook  his  head.  "  That's  sneaky,"  he 
said;  "  I  don't  like  it.  If  you  happen  to  be 
down  at  the  foot  of  North  Avenue  occasionally 
when  I  get  in  from  my  run  I'll  walk  home  with 
you.  I'd  like  that.  Seems  to  me  when  it  comes 
to  the  streets  we  have  certain  inalienable  rights 
without  straining  the  Constitution,  even  of  Col 
orado.  Then  there's  the  stars  and  the  moon 
and  the  mountains,  and  Jackson's  livery  stable 
with  lots  of  buggies  in  it;  besides,  you  might 
come  down  now  and  then  and  take  a  ride  on  the 
1202.  You  can  hold  the  glim  while  I  break 
coal,  and  maybe  Pap  will  let  you  squeeze  the 
choker."  They  both  fell  to  laughing.  Daffy 
set  her  right  foot  forward,  thrust  her  right 
arm  straight  up  in  the  air  and  struck  a  goddess- 
of-liberty  pose. 

"  By  the  divine  right  vested  in  the  natural 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  127 

constitution  of  every  fair  maiden  I  here  de 
clare  —  "  She  stopped. 

"  Declare  what?  "  asked  Wadd. 

She  twinkled  her  eyes  at  him.  '  '  That  maybe 
I  will." 

The  winter  wore  on  and  the  weeks  drew  into 
March.  Day  by  day  a  moist  freshness  breathed 
across  the  mountains.  The  peaks  pushed  back 
their  silver  hoods,  shook  out  yellow  locks  of 
sunshine,  and  smiled.  The  canyons  echoed  with 
the  cymbal-shock  of  swollen  streams,  valleys 
grew  green  as  ocean  hollows,  miners  went  re 
luctantly  into  the  workings,  railroad  men 
wished  they  were  farmers,  and  Wadd  Han 
cock,  with  enlarging  heart-hunger,  wanted 
Daffy. 

Singing  along  the  "  ole  man's  "  street  one 
night  as  he  returned  from  his  run,  the  girl 
fluttered  out  to  him  from  Addicks's  gate,  and 
the  pair  walked  up  North  Avenue  until  they 
were  on  the  base  of  Sacket  Mountain.  A 
vague,  whitish  world  spread  about  and  below 


128          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

them  in  the  moonlight.  They  sat  down  on  a 
shelf  of  stone  beside  the  road  and  for  a  time 
were  silent. 

"  I  wonder  when  something  will  happen  — 
something  that  will  change  Uncle  Stephen," 
said  Daffy. 

Wadd  laid  his  cap  on  the  ground  and  pushed 
back  his  hair.  "  When  it  does  happen  I  expect 
I'll  get  fired,"  he  said. 

The  girl  sat  silently  looking  at  the  filmy 
mountain  range  across  the  valley.  Her  dark 
eyes  glistened.  "  When  it  happens  you'll  get 
an  engine;  I've  been  concentrating,"  she 
said. 

He  laughed  and  arose  and  stepped  into  the 
road.  He  picked  up  a  stone  and  threw  it  far 
down  the  slope.  When  the  stone  had  fallen  and 
was  silent  he  turned  back  to  her.  "  Well, 
we've  been  hitting  high  joints  and  grades  most 
of  the  way  so  far,"  he  said.  "  With  the  M.  M. 
flagging  and  trying  to  turn  switches  on  us,  and 
the  gang  generally  piling  ties  on  the  track,  it 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  129 

don't  look  like  it  could  be  any  worse  running 
if  we  coupled  up  and  went  double-header. 
What  do  you  say,  little  girl?  " 

The  wine  in  Daffy's  cheeks  deepened  its  rose. 
"  You  mustn't  get  impatient  or  discouraged, 
big  boy,"  she  laughed.  "  Remember  that  all 
things  come  to  him  who  waits." 

"  That  is  exactly  the  trouble,"  declared 
Wadd;  "  all  things  do  come.  If  only  some 
things  came  to  him  who  waited  there  would 
be  more  sense  in  the  scheme.  But  all  things 
come  —  trouble  and  hot  boxes  and  open 
switches  generally  —  so  I  prefer  not  to 
wait." 

Daffy  put  her  hands  in  his  and  looked  up  at 
him.  "  You  are  a  good  fireman,  you've  got  my 
heart  very  warm,"  she  laughed,  adopting  his 
fashion  of  metaphor;  "  but  do  you  think  we 
ought  to  pull  out  without  the  consent  of  the 
master  mechanic?  " 

11  Eun  on  orders  if  you  can.  If  you  can't  get 
orders  go  ahead  on  your  time-card  rights ;  that 


130          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

is  my  doctrine, "  laughed  Wadd.  He  saw  stars 
swimming  in  her  upturned  eyes ;  his  face  grew 
grave  and  tender. 

Daffy  drew  him  down  and  took  his  face  be 
tween  her  hands  and  looked  into  his  eyes  long 
and  soberly.  Tremblingly  she  touched  her  lips 
to  his.  "  Dear/'  she  whispered,  "  you  have 
the  signal  to  go  ahead." 

This  explains  why  Daffy  temporarily  ab 
jured  the  piano  for  the  needle,  why  she  wrote 
to  Aunt  Sue  at  Cheyenne,  and  why  Aunt  Sue 
sent  her  two  hundred  dollars.  It  also  explains 
why  she  deadheaded  over  to  Denver  and  or 
dered  from  a  modiste  the  historic  crepe  de 
chine  and  lace  wedding-gown  that  played  so 
important  a  part  in  the  Puma  Point  tragedy. 
Daffy  visited  Denver  a  second  time  to  have  the 
gown  fitted ;  then,  when  it  would  have  received 
the  last  stitch,  Wadd  was  to  bring  the  beautiful 
and  precious  ' t  creation  ' '  home  to  Paley  Fork. 
Very  naturally  Daffy  desired  that  her  mar 
riage  vows  should  be  solemnized  in  Stephen 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  131 

Addicks's  best  parlor  and  with  proper  eclat. 
Wadd  also  would  have  liked  that,  but  after  one 
had  thrown  the  owner  of  the  house  into  an  ash 
pit  and  brought  upon  him  a  very  appreciable 
measure  of  derision,  one  could  hardly  expect 
to  harvest  a  comforting  crop  of  considera 
tion. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  Wadd  to  Daffy,  "  we 
can  be  married  over  at  the  parsonage,  or,  if  the 
preacher's  '  best  '  isn't  big  enough  to  hold  our 
friends,  we  can  hire  a  hall.  I've  got  some  joy 
ous  rags  being  tied  together  over  at  Bunker's 
tog  factory.  They'll  be  done  in  a  few  days,  and 
when  that  dazzling  affair  of  yours  gets  in  from 
Denver,  we'll  be  ready  to  meet  all  comers.  I've 
rented  the  Cupple  cottage,  but  I  guess  we'd 
better  not  buy  the  furniture  until  after  this 
matrimonial  sunburst  has  been  flashed  on  your 
uncle.  I  may  have  to  go  hunting  a  job,  you 
know." 

Daffy  believed  that  she  could  win  her  uncle's 
consent,  and  was  daily  noting  his  moods,  await- 


132          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ing  the  psychic  moment  when  he  should  seem 
least  resistant.  One  evening  she  dropped  a 
hint.  Like  magic  powder,  it  produced  a  smoke 
of  sulphuric  rhetoric.  Daffy  waited. 

On  the  sixth  day  of  April  Wadd  found  that 
the  bridal  dress  was  ready  for  transit.  Train 
men  on  the  West  End  as  well  as  several  on 
the  East  End  remember  the  day.  Away  out 
in  Bear  Paw  canyon  there  was  a  bad  slide  and 
a  wreck ;  and  Puma  Point !  that  would  be  hard 
to  forget.  Wadd  brought  the  gown  from  the 
modiste  in  a  green  pasteboard  box.  The  pack 
age  was  too  large  to  go  into  the  seat-box  on  the 
fireman's  side  of  the  1202,  so  he  placed  it  on 
the  front  end  of  the  seat  in  the  window-niche, 
tying  it  fast  with  twine  and  weighting  it  down 
with  the  iron  head  of  a  coal  maul.  To  Wadd 
the  box  had  a  quality  of  life,  speeding  a  thrill 
of  pleasure  along  his  nerves  each  time  that  he 
looked  at  it.  Big,  gray,  corpulent  Pap  Gundy, 
the  engineer,  glanced  at  the  box  as  he  climbed 
into  the  cab  and  stood  for  a  moment  with  his 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  133 

hand  pressed  against  his  heart,  laboring  for 
breath. 

"  More  duds,  eh?  "  he  panted. 

"  Yep,  more  duds,"  replied  Wadd,  glancing 
at  the  gauges. 

The  old  engineer  put  his  foot  on  the  step  and 
ran  his  eye  across  the  tremulous  gauge-needles. 
"  Son,  I  don't  feel  a  bit  good,"  he  said.  "  Do 
you  know,  I  believe  that  a  hair  about  two  foot 
long  has  grown  inward  from  my  chest  and 
wrapped  itself  around  my  heart,  and  it's  tight 
ening  up  little  by  little  every  day.  Going  t' 
stop  the  pump  one  of  these  days,  I'm  afraid." 
He  shook  with  slow  laughter. 

Wadd  laid  his  hand  lightly  on  the  old  man's 
shoulder.  "  You're  joshing,  Pap.  You're  the 
healthiest-looking  man  I  know;  it's  sure  all 
right,"  he  said. 

' '  Of  course,  son,  of  course ;  but  it  feels  like 
a  strangling  hair."  He  slowly  climbed  to  his 
seat  on  the  right-hand  shoulder  of  the  mighty 
machine.  From  the  fuel-deck  Wadd  could  see 


134          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

no  more  of  him  than  the  outline  of  his  back  and 
right  shoulder. 

Exactly  on  time  the  great  compound,  with  a 
quickening  series  of  crashing  exhausts,  moved 
out  of  the  shed  with  her  string  of  coaches  and 
made  off  toward  the  mountains  through  the 
falling  dusk.  She  went  purring,  but  with  a 
hoarse  depth  of  breath  befitting  her  monstrous 
lungs ;  she  rolled  on  her  springs,  but  majestic 
ally  and  in  keeping  with  the  staying  power  of 
her  two  hundred  thousand  pounds  of  close-knit 
steel.  She  obeyed  the  throttle  like  a  lamb,  but 
her  hunger  for  coal !  Wadd  was  never  at  rest 
a  moment.  His  hand  seemed  always  reaching 
for  the  door-chain,  and  coal  seemed  forever 
spraying  from  his  shovel  into  the  hot  mouth 
that  ceaselessly  growled  and  hissed  with  appe 
tite.  Following  level  rails  southwestward 
through  the  first  hour,  she  whipped  the  coaches 
along  like  a  string  of  toys,  but  the  lift  of  the 
foot-hills  forced  her  to  heavy  breathing.  Wadd 
tore  open  his  shirt  collar  and  rolled  his  sleeves 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  135 

to  his  elbows.  It  took  a  real  master  of  the 
maul  and  shovel  to  keep  breath  in  that  pro 
digious  chest. 

By  nine  o'clock  they  were  at  Barn  Butte,  a 
sort  of  assistant  division  station  at  the  east 
ern  base  of  the  Cradle  Eange.  There  Jim 
Downey  with  the  1300,  a  huge  decapod,  hooked 
in  as  pusher  and  helped  them  to  the  summit. 
By  eleven  o'clock,  having  left  Downey  behind, 
the  1202  was  bellowing  on  the  western  slope 
of  the  range,  her  steel  skull  lowered  toward 
the  Sandrill.  Though  the  air  of  this  soaring 
region  was  chill,  Pap  Gundy  sat  among  his 
levers  hatless  and  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  with 
both  windows  wide.  For  the  most  part  he  sat 
poring  on  the  two  streaks  of  steel  that  spun 
toward  him  through  the  broad  glare  of  the 
headlight,  but  at  times  the  bright  rails  seemed 
to  him  only  thin  wires  running  through  air 
and  sinking  under  the  weight  of  the  engine.  In 
such  moments  he  would  look  away  quickly  to 
the  stars  and  straighten  up  with  a  deep  breath 


136          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

and  shake  himself.  Taking  ,a  train  filled  with 
humanity  down  the  grades  of  the  Cradle  Range 
was  hardly  a  feat  admitting  of  vertigo  or 
dreams. 

With  Wadd  matters  were  now  easier.    Occa 
sionally  he  jumped  upon  the  fireman's  seat,  and 
with  his  hand  resting  on  the  precious  box  also 
looked  at  the  stars.    Everywhere  the  mountain 
tops  seemed  caught  and  swaying  in  a  silvery 
net.    There  was  no  visible  moon ;  on  the  moun 
tains  rested  a  vast  silence  through  which  the 
1202  crashed  heavily,  falling  toward  the  valley 
twenty  miles  away.     At  Bonebreak,  half-way 
down  the  range,  Bunch  Wilson,  who  was  at  the 
train-sheet  in  Paley  Fork,   caught  them  and 
gave  them  an  order  to  meet  eastbound  pas 
senger  Number  2  at  Puma  Point  Siding,  nine 
miles  west  of  Bridge  Station,  the  regular  meet 
ing-point.    Bridge  Station  was  on  the  Sandrill 
River  at  the  base  of  the  range.     Crossing  the 
stream  there,  the  track  followed  the  river  up 
the  canyon,  past  Queen  Cove  Mine  and  Puma 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  137 

Point  Siding,  and  wound  westward  over  the 
base  of  Silver  Mountain  toward  Paley  Fork. 

Leaving  the  Fork  that  night,  Number  2  was 
twenty-six  minutes  late,  and  had  to  be  helped 
to  the  siding  with  an  order.  In  the  coaches 
Bob  French  was  handling  tickets,  in  the  cab 
Sandy  McBinn  was  at  the  throttle,  and  with 
him  was  Stephen  Addicks,  watching  the  work 
ing  of  a  hoped-for  improvement  he  had  con 
trived  in  the  grate-shaking  apparatus.  The 
M.  M.  was  in  a  mood  malefic.  The  shaker  had 
not  performed  satisfactorily,  and  the  fireman, 
in  attempting  to  force  it  to  effective  service, 
had  jammed  his  right  hand  cruelly.  He  could 
do  but  little,  and  since  the  train  was  already 
behind  time,  McBinn  descended  to  the  fuel- 
deck  and  wielded  the  shovel  while  Addicks  took 
the  valve  levers.  Driving  an  engine  was  as 
familiar  to  the  M.  M.  as  waste  and  overalls,  and 
he  brought  Number  2  down  the  line  at  a  clip 
that  made  the  coaches  rock  and  squeak  on  the 
curves. 


138          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  Guess  Sandy  must  be  trying  t'  show  the 
old  man  what  he  can  do/'  French  remarked  to 
one  of  the  brakemen.  "  Hope  he  don't  slue  us 
into  the  canyon  when  we  come  down  around 
Puma  Point." 

11  Well,  if  th'  ole  man  stands  for  it  s'pose 
we'll  have  to." 

They  did  not  know  that  the  master  me 
chanic's  hand  was  on  the  throat-lever,  nor  did 
Addicks,  with  his  steel-gray  eyes  set  steadily 
on  the  forward  point  of  the  wedge  of  light 
swiftly  splitting  the  gloom  ahead,  know  that 
he  was  whirling  Number  2  toward  an  on 
coming  train  with  a  dead  man  at  the  throttle. 
Addicks  proposed  to  take  Number  2  into 
Denver  on  time. 

And  Gundy  —  no  one  on  the  express  knew! 
He  brought  his  train  down  the  range  to  the 
Sandrill  and  across  to  Bridge  Station  in  good 
order,  though  a  trifle  fast.  He  shut  off  a  little 
late  at  Bridge  Station  and  ran  past,  stopping 
at  the  water-tank  instead  of  the  station,  which 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  139 

was  queer.  When  they  pulled  out  he  gave  the 
1202  her  head  so  suddenly  that  persons  on  the 
train  who  chanced  to  be  standing  were  jerked 
nearly  off  their  feet.  That  was  the  last  time 
Pap  opened  a  valve.  His  broad  left  hand  re 
mained  on  the  lever,  gripped  into  a  hard,  hairy 
knot,  his  right  clutched  the  window-sill  like 
a  vise,  and  he  lurched  forward  with  his  chin 
on  his  chest,  staring  at  his  feet  and  swaying 
a  little,  death's  frost  in  his  eyes. 

Wadd  was  busy.  From  Bridge  Station  to 
the  Fork  the  1202  would  eat  coal  like  an  ore- 
crusher.  She  went  up  the  dark  canyon  along 
the  Sandrill  with  her  exhausts  beating  a  steady 
roar.  Where  was  the  use  of  Pap  making  a  run 
for  Silver  Mountain,  Wadd  asked  himself, 
when  they  had  to  stop  at  the  siding?  He 
glanced  at  the  outline  of  the  engineer's  back 
and  wondered.  Yet,  surely  the  old  man  knew 
his  business. 

They  swept  by  the  vast  gash  in  the  moun 
tain's  base  where  lay  Queen  Cove  Mine,  and 


140          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

onward  through  cuts  and  over  fills,  the  coaches 
rolling  in  the  wake  of  the  rushing  machine. 
The  hoarse  buzz  in  the  engine's  throat  deep 
ened  as  she  turned  slightly  from  the  river  and 
began  to  plant  her  whirling  feet  on  the  base 
of  Silver  Mountain,  and  Wadd,  pounding  coal 
under  her  busily,  his  brain  aswim  with  Daffy 
and  the  sumptuous  gown  and  the  portents  of 
the  morrow,   gave  small  heed  to  his   where 
abouts  until,  with  a  shock  of  realization  that 
nipped  his  hair-roots  with  cold,  he  saw  that 
they  had  rushed  by  the  siding  and  were  round 
ing  Puma  Point.    Instantly  he  leaped  into  the 
gangway,  and  swinging  outward  by  the  hand- 
rods,  threw  a  quick  glance  back.     The  siding 
was  surely  vanishing  eastward!     At  that  the 
conductor's  bell-cord  wrenched  sharply,  giving 
the  stop  signal.    With  a  gasp  of  horror  Wadd 
sprang  across  the  fuel-deck  and  up  the  steps 
to   Gundy 's  seat.     He   snatched  the  engineer 
roughly  about  the  shoulders. 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  141 

"Pap!  What  do  you  mean!  What  are  you 
trying  to  do?  ' 

The  gray  head  rolled  back  against  the  fire^ 
man's  shoulder,  the  unseeing,  frosty  eyes  close 
to  the  young  man's  face. 

For  a  moment  the  fireman  stared  down  upon 
the  unearthly  countenance,  his  faculties  frozen 
by  what  he  saw,  then  he  lunged  at  the  throttle. 
The  dead  man's  hand  seemed  shrunk  upon  the 
lever  like  a  claw  of  chilled  iron.  The  youth 
laid  hold  of  it  and  wrenched  it  away,  then  his 
hand  flew  back  to  the  lever  to  shut  off  steam. 
But  in  that  instant,  as  if  stretching  forth  his 
hand  conjured  destruction,  the  1202  crashed 
and  leaped  and  seemingly  rent  herself  into 
fragments.  Wadd  felt  himself  strike  the  fuel- 
deck,  fire  gushed  from  his  eyes,  he  felt  one  of 
his  legs  snap,  and  somehow  realized  that  boul 
ders  and  mud  and  logs  were  hurling  over  him. 
The  next  moment,  as  it  might  be,  he  felt  himself 
thrashed  upon  the  earth.  The  green  box  lay 
crushed  beneath  his  breast;  things,  he  knew 


142          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

not  what,  were  piled  upon  him.  He  felt  flat 
tened,  pinioned,  smothering;  he  must  have  air 
or  perish.  With  a  heave  and  wrench  that 
seemed  fit  to  tear  the  muscles  from  his  bones 
he  got  his  head  above  the  ruck  of  stuff  and 
drew  himself  out.  He  reached  in  and  pulled  the 
crushed  box  after  him.  Even  in  that  moment 
of  bewilderment  something  within  him  asked 
what  Daffy  would  think  should  he  lose  the  wed 
ding-gown.  They  were  in  an  earthslide  that 
had  rolled  down  from  Puma  Point.  The  1202 
had  driven  almost  through  it,  and  now  lay  upon 
her  back  with  her  drivers  in  the  air.  The  train, 
stretched  in  the  mucky  stuff,  twisted  and  top 
pled  grotesquely;  the  coaches  rang  with 
human  cries.  The  Pintsch  lights  were  burn 
ing  in  some  of  the  coaches,  perhaps  the  red 
lamps  were  aglow  at  the  rear;  but  evidently 
the  conductor  and  brakemen  were  struggling 
somewhere  in  the  half-buried  wreck. 

Something,    a    kind    of    lightning,     blazed 
through  the  fireman's  brain:   In  three  or  four 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  143 

minutes  Number  2,  an  inconceivable  weight 
of  iron  and  wood  and  humanity,  would  rush 
down  Puma  Grade  and  drive  into  the  helpless 
mass  in  the  cut.  He  seemed  suddenly  baptized 
in  fire.  He  threw  a  glance  about  him;  there 
was  no  lantern  or  means  of  signaling  at  hand. 
Like  a  swimmer  who  blows  back  engulfing 
waters  with  long  breaths  and  fights  toward 
some  point  whereon  life  waits  but  a  moment 
beckoning,  he  began  crawling  madly  ahead 
along  the  track,  dragging  the  torn  box  and  his 
dangling  leg  after  him.  If  he  could  but  reach 
the  western  end  of  the  first  bend,  some  three 
or  four  hundred  feet  distant!  Beyond  that 
there  was  a  little  stretch  of  straight  track,  and, 
could  he  set  the  wedding-gown  on  fire,  McBinn 
might  possibly  see  the  signal  in  time  to  get  his 
train  under  control  before  he  struck  the  hap 
less  coaches  in  the  cut. 

He  went  like  an  insane  man.  Back  of  him 
there  was  yelling  and  a  turmoil  of  noise ;  away 
in  front  of  him  a  mighty,  jostling  thing  was 


144          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

roaring  down  the  grade ;  but  he  heard  nothing, 
only  his  breath  gasping  and  pulses  pounding 
and  the  bones  of  his  broken  leg  rasping.  The 
pasteboard  box  went  entirely  in  pieces;  he 
flung  the  lacy  gown  back  over  his  shoulders  and 
scrambled  onward  over  the  ties.  Though  it 
seemed  a  monstrous  stretch  of  years,  in  three 
minutes  he  was  at  the  end  of  the  curve.  He 
looked  up  and  saw  the  headlight  of  Number 
2  half  a  mile  away;  he  glanced  back  at  the 
wrecked  express:  it  seemed  fearfully  near. 
But  he  could  do  no  better.  With  trembling 
hand  he  tore  some  matches  from  the  "  pipe  >: 
pocket  of  his  flannel  shirt  and  raked  a  bunch 
of  them  along  one  of  the  rails.  He  drew  the 
beautiful  gown  before  him  and  thrust  the  blaz 
ing  matches  among  the  lace.  Flames  leaped 
up  as  from  ignited  corn-silk;  the  gauzy  fabric 
began  to  writhe  and  flash.  Seizing  it  in  both 
hands  he  rose  on  the  knee  of  his  uninjured  leg 
and  waved  it  wildly  to  and  fro  above  his  head. 
The  flames  of  it  burned  him,  the  curling  laces 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  145 

trickled  down  upon  him  like  melting  lead,  but 
lie  felt  nothing,  heard  nothing,  only  lashed  the 
blazing  gown  back  and  forth,  yelling  with  all 
his  lungs. 

Piled  against  the  western  stars,  the  moun 
tain  masses  seemed  to  sway,  the  headlight  of 
the  oncoming  train  rocked  and  dipped  fantas 
tically,  then  to  the  young  fellow  on  the  track 
it  began  to  whirl  in  vast  circles  like  a  stupen 
dous  coal  of  fire,  then,  as  with  a  wink,  it 
snapped  black  and  all  was  darkness.  In  his 
brain  for  an  instant  wavered  a  dying  impulse, 
a  feeling  that  he  was  still  on  his  knees  flinging 
the  flaming  robe  back  and  forth  above  his  head, 
but  in  truth  he  was  lying  flat  across  the  right- 
hand  rail  with  his  face  between  the  ends  of  the 
ties  and  his  scorched  fingers  clutching  the  dirt. 

On  passenger  Number  2  fright  and  com 
motion  had  fallen;  down  in  the  gloom  the  iron 
way  had  suddenly  spouted  waving  flames.  The 
fire  was  white  —  but  look  at  its  motion!  The 
engine's  chime  shrieked  once  like  a  bursting 


146          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

trumpet,  the  reversing  lever  went  over  with  a 
crash,  air  leaped  through  the  pipes,  and  the 
brake-shoes  jammed  their  gritty  soles  against 
the  flying  wheels  until  the  rails  flickered  with 
spattering  fire,  passengers  smote  the  seats  in 
front  of  them  with  face  or  breast,  drawheads 
battered  and  split,  and  from  end  to  end  the 
train  surged  and  snarled  and  shook.  Addicks, 
thrown  forward  upon  his  knees,  stared  ahead 
with  his  grizzly  face  suddenly  white  as  chalk, 
McBinn  leaped  into  the  gangway  ready  to 
jump,  the  fireman  forgot  his  mangled  hand  and 
lowered  himself  to  the  step,  poising  to  spring. 
All  seemed  accomplished  in  a  moment,  almost 
in  a  breath.  The  train,  skating  in  fire,  quiv 
ered  and  jostled  down  toward  the  sputtering 
wedding-gown  and  the  limp  form  sprawling 
across  the  track.  It  approached  close,  almost 
touched  them,  then,  with  a  tremor  and  back 
ward  heave  of  the  whole  fabric,  the  train 
stopped  and  fell  quiet. 
McBinn,  lantern  in  hand,  was  the  first  man 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  147 

to  reach  the  muffled,  muddy  figure,  but  the 
master  mechanic  was  at  McBinn's  heels  and 
his  arms  were  the  first  to  encircle  the  prone 
shape.  He  turned  the  young  fellow's  face  to 
the  light;  it  was  streaked  with  blood  and 
smeared  with  wet  earth.  Addicks  was  strangely 
moved.  A  brakeman  and  a  postal  clerk  from 
the  express  came  up,  panting  and  trying  to 
talk. 

"  What's  happened?  "  growled  Addicks. 

"  We're  in  a  slide.  Lot  of  folks  bruised  and 
hurt,  I  guess;  don't  think  anybody's  killed, " 
said  the  brakeman. 

"  I  stumbled  over  Pap  Gundy  by  the  engine. 
I'm  afraid  Pap  —  he  didn't  look  right,"  said 
the  postal  clerk.  The  speaker  looked  pallid  in 
the  glare  of  the  headlight. 

Addicks  was  tenderly  wiping  Wadd's  face 
with  his  handkerchief.  Suddenly  the  eyes  in 
the  soiled  face  opened,  widened  wildly;  the 
figure  began  to  twist  and  struggle. 


148          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"Stop  her!  Hold  Number  Two!  "  the 
muddy  lips  cried. 

"  Shut  her  off,  McBinn!  Plug  her!  Throw 
her  over  —  throw  her  over !  Give  her  —  ' ' 

"There  —  there!  "  said  Addicks,  stroking 
the  young  fellow's  hair  back  from  his  fore 
head;  "  Number  Two  is  all  right.  McBinn  is 
here.  I  was  at  the  throttle  myself  and  got 
your  signal.  Number  Two  is  right  here  on  the 
track." 

Wadd  looked  around  at  the  men  oddly,  up 
at  the  front  of  Number  2's  engine,  then 
sank  back  limply  and  began  to  laugh.  ' l  Ho-o- 
rah !  '  he  said  weakly,  ' l  pick  the  hymn  and 
I'll  sing  the  tenor  part!  Say,  be  careful,  one 
of  my  legs  is  busted,  I  guess.  Touch  her 
lightly,  please.  Say,  I  had  to  burn  Daffy's 
dress;  couldn't  help  it.  She  simply  won't  do  a 
thing  to  me!  '  The  young  fellow  set  his  jaws 
rigidly  as  the  men  began  to  lift  him. 

"Dress  —  Daffy's    dress!"    said    Addicks. 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  149 

* '  Where  did  you  get  —  what  do  you  mean, 
boy?  " 

"  Weddin'-gown,"  muttered  Wadd  through 
his  teeth. 

11  You  set  it  on  fire?  " 

"  Burned  her  up,"  grated  Wadd. 

The  master  mechanic  was  silent  a  moment. 

"  I  see,"  he  said.  "  Well,  I'll  buy  her  the 
next  one  myself.  Another  thing,  son,  when  the 
1202  has  been  put  through  the  shop  you  can 
have  her." 

"  The  engine  or  the  girl?  " 

"  Both." 

When  the  plucky  fireman  recovered  several 
interesting  things  occurred.  In  Mr.  Addicks's 
parlor  one  evening,  there  was  a  ceremony  in 
which  Wadd  and  Daffy  participated  as  chief 
actors.  They  purposed  slipping  away  quietly 
on  a  wedding-trip,  but,  oddly  enough,  the  car 
riage  that  should  have  borne  them  to  their 
train  took  them  directly  to  the  Lyon  House, 
where  they  were  taken  charge  of  peremptorily 


150          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

by  a  smiling  committee,  and  where,  to  their 
amazement,  they  found,  seemingly,  half  the 
town  seated  at  tables  in  the  great  dining-room 
and  awaiting  their  coming.  There  was  great 
applause  and  laughter  on  the  entrance  of  the 
blushing  couple.  Wadd  acknowledged  himself 
trapped  as  he  and  Daffy  were  led  to  the  first 
table  and  given  a  seat  beside  Superintendent 
Burke.  Upon  the  other  side  of  the  superin 
tendent  sat  little  Muggins  Tarney  and  his 
father  and  mother. 

It  was  a  joyous  feast,  an  occasion  of  songs, 
toasts,  and  merriment.  Manvell  and  Addicks 
and  Burke  each  made  a  speech,  and  Wadd, 
when  decorated  with  the  Diamond  Key  by 
Burke,  tried  to  reply,  but  could  not  say  much 
for  the  reason  that  his  voice  trembled  so  with 
feeling.  We  only  cheered  him  the  louder,  how 
ever,  for  that.  But  when  Daffy  arose  suddenly 
and  took  little  Muggins  from  beside  his  father, 
and  holding  the  wondering,  rosy  child  in  her 
arms  before  us,  made  a  little  speech  at  the  end 


CREPE  DE  CHINE  TORCH  151 

of  which  she  kissed  him,  saying,  that,  "  Next 
to  Wadd  Hancock,  Muggins  was  the  greatest 
man  present,"  we  all  went  wild.  Burke  then 
amid  great  applause  pinned  a  Diamond  Key  on 
Muggins's  chest  and  the  orchestra  played 
"  Hail  the  Conquering  Hero."  As  the  ban 
quet,  amid  handshaking  and  laughter,  broke 
up,  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  Mrs.  Tarney  with 
her  arm  about  Daffy,  and  Jack  Tarney  grip 
ping  Burke's  hand,  while  Wadd  was  holding 
little  Muggins  in  his  arms  and  the  two  were 
looking  laughingly  into  each  other's  eyes. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   JOINING   OF    THE   BONNETS 

MEASURED  by  the  Calculus  of  the  Prob 
able  it  looked  that  Low  Bonnet  would 
never  have  a  railroad  of  its  own,  or  a  station 
to  which,  when  dulness  brewed  appetite  for 
excitement,  its  citizens  could  handily  go  to 
"  see  the  train  come  in."  But  within  the  Cal 
culus  of  the  Possible  strange  things  are  like 
to  fall.  Even  that  which  man  conceives  to  be 
impossible  sometimes  comes  to  pass.  It  was 
thus  at  Low  Bonnet. 

Ames  Burke,  superintendent,  believed  that 
certain  things  were  impossible,  even  in  rail 
roading,  where  indubitably  affairs  do  come  off 
that  reverse  all  preconceived  notions  of  logic 
and  sequence.  Among  the  things  that  Burke 

152 


THE    BONNETS  153 

thought  impossible  were  two  that  concern  this 
narrative,  one  that  a  human  being  could  be 
struck  by  an  engine  running  at  great  speed 
and  survive  the  shock,  the  other  that  the  tracks 
of  the  Western  Central  could  be  profitably  got 
ten  into  Low  Bonnet.  Nevertheless,  the  tracks 
of  the  Western  Central  were  brought  into  Low 
Bonnet,  and  Joey  Phillips  was  struck,  or  ap 
parently  so,  by  the  great  1300  when  she  was 
going  at  a  whipping  clip,  and  came  out  of  the 
collision  with  scarcely  a  bruise. 

In  the  construction  of  the  Western  Central 
it  was,  of  course,  desirable  that  distance  should 
be  saved  wherever  possible,  since  it  was  pur 
posed  that  the  road  should  ultimately  form 
part  of  a  great  trans-continental  line.  It  is 
probable  that  this  desire  was  the  primary  cause 
of  Low  Bonnet  being  left  by  the  wayside, 
snugly  sitting  in  the  valley  on  the  south  side 
of  the  Peace,  while  the  Western  Central's  track 
passed  along  the  side  of  the  mountain  a  half- 
mile  north  of  the  river  and  at  an  altitude  some 


154          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

five  hundred  feet  above  Low  Bonnet.  The  sit 
uation  had  not  been  so  entirely  exasperating 
to  the  citizens  of  Low  Bonnet  but  for  three  rea 
sons:  first,  the  line  had  originally  been  sur 
veyed  through  Low  Bonnet,  and  a  right  of  way 
and  station-site  presented  the  company  by  the 
town ;  second,  the  company,  after  changing  the 
course  of  the  line  to  the  north  side  of  the  river, 
erected  a  depot  due  north  of  Low  Bonnet  on 
the  mountainside  and  platted  a  town  about  it 
which  they  named  High  Bonnet;  third,  the 
citizens  of  Low  Bonnet,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  north  shore  of  the  Peace  was  very  abrupt, 
could  not  construct  a  wagon  road  to  the  station 
save  by  going  nearly  a  mile  up  the  stream.  To 
be  sure,  they  could  climb  to  the  station  on  foot 
and  by  a  steep  path,  but  that  was  humiliating. 
So  Low  Bonnet  sat,  not  precisely  in  sackcloth 
and  ashes,  but  in  a  state  approximating  what 
the  English  term  "  blue  funk." 

Low  Bonnet  was  a  small  town,  but  it  boasted 
a  newspaper,  the  Peace  Valley  Eagle,  and  quite 


THE    BONNETS  155 

naturally  the  Eagle  screamed  vehemently, 
pointing  out  that  if  the  railroad  people  had 
constructed  the  track  in  a  loop  or  horseshoe 
at  the  east  end  of  the  valley,  the  line  might 
have  been  laid  down  through  Low  Bonnet  in  a 
proper  and  public-spirited  fashion;  the  town 
council  also  condemned  the  Western  Central's 
parsimony  and  arrogance  in  resolutions  that 
were  scorching,  and  Sidewell  Torch,  owner  of 
the  Blue  Flake  mine  and  four  times  president 
of  the  Low  Bonnet  town  council,  anathematized 
the  railroad  folks  in  terms  entirely  unquotable. 

However,  the  railroad  was  laid  and  firmly 
fixed  on  the  mountain  slope  on  the  north  side 
of  the  Peace,  and  there  it  promised  by  all  rec 
ognized  laws  of  probability  to  remain  forever 
—  but  it  did  not. 

As  a  train  despatcher  on  the  Western  Cen 
tral,  the  writer  was  from  time  to  time  person 
ally  cognizant  of  tragic,  unusual,  and  humor 
ous  happenings  on  the  line,  and  heard,  also,  of 
things  worth  telling.  But  when  Superintend- 


156          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ent  Burke  sent  for  Joey  Phillips,  and  the 
youth  was  ushered  on  to  the  "  big  rug  "  and 
we  gazed  upon  him,  alive  and  practically  un 
hurt  after  he  had  been  struck  by  the  1300,  we 
thought  the  record  had  been  smashed  and  no 
other  story  would  be  worth  relating.  However, 
in  operating  three  hundred  miles  of  mountain 
track  there  are  very  frequently  things  happen 
ing  of  an  astounding  nature. 

Joey's  accident  had  peculiar  bearing  on  the 
destiny  of  Low  Bonnet,  since  the  oddity  of  the 
accident  brought  the  young  man  to  the  super 
intendent's  attention,  and  the  High  Bonnet 
affair  might  not  have  come  off  but  for  the  fact 
that  Joey  was  made  operator  and  station-agent 
there. 

We  men  of  the  train-sheet  pricked  up  our 
ears  when  Burke  essayed  to  turn  the  screws 
down  on  Joey.  He  was  a  resolute,  clean-look 
ing  youth  of  about  eighteen,  with  a  particu 
larly  good  brow  and  firm  chin.  He  looked  the 
superintendent  square  in  the  face. 


THE    BONNETS  157 

"  You  sent  for  me?  "  he  said,  inquiringly. 

16  Yes;   sit  down." 

"  Thank  you." 

Old  Burke  turned  his  keen  eyes  upon  the 
youth  quickly.  It  was  rather  odd  to  find  a 
mountain  railroad  boy  so  polite. 

' '  You  were  run  over  —  or  rather,  you  were 
struck  by  the  engine  of  the  Limited  at  the  foot 
of  Muley  Pass,  or  somewhere  down  that  way, 
I  am  told!  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  just  where  the  track  comes  down 
from  Muley  Pass  into  Peace  Canyon." 

"  I  understand  that  your  folks  intend  to 
bring  claim  against  the  company  for  damages 
for  injuries  sustained  by  yourself." 

Joey  turned  his  hat  about  on  his  knee  and 
reflected  a  moment.  "  I  don't  see  why  they 
should;  I  wasn't  hurt  to  speak  of;  besides,  I 
tried  to  cross  in  front  of  the  engine  when  it 
was  very  close,"  he  said. 

Burke  looked  pleased,  but  surprised. 
"  Would  you  mind  telling  me  fully  about  it? 


158          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

According  to  Engineer  Parker's  report  it  was 
rather  extraordinary. ' ' 

"  Yes,  it  was.  I  hardly  know  why  I  wasn't 
killed.  IVe  been  learning  telegraphy  at 
Wormsley;  my  oldest  brother  is  your  agent 
there.  I  went  over  Muley  Pass  and  down  to 
Peace  Canyon  fishing.  I  was  walking  along  by 
the  track  at  Echo  Siding  when  the  Limited 
came  down  the  grade  into  the  canyon.  She  had 
reached  the  foot  of  the  grade  and  was  running 
very  fast.  I  was  walking  on  the  north  side  of 
the  main  track,  on  the  south  side  was  the 
switch  with  eight  or  ten  flat  cars  standing  on 
it.  As  the  Limited  came  close,  I  don't  know 
why,  but  I  thought  the  cars  on  the  siding  were 
moving  west  and  would  run  off  the  end  of  the 
switch  and  wreck  the  passenger.  I  started 
across  the  main  track  with  the  thought  of  jump 
ing  on  the  flat  cars  and  setting  the  brakes,  but 
the  engine  of  the  Limited  was  upon  me  before 
I  could  get  across.  I  jumped,  but  she  struck 
me,  or  something  did,  and  I  went  through  the 


THE    BONNETS  159 


air  and  fell  about  thirty  feet  away.  The  fall 
stunned  me,  but  outside  of  that  I  wasn't  hurt 
much.  I  went  down  to  the  Peace  a  half-hour 
afterward  and  caught  some  trout/' 

Burke  made  a  memorandum  note  or  two,  and 
said  in  his  quick,  jerky  way:  "  Have  you  any 
theory  explanatory  of  why  you  were  not  killed, 
and  why  the  cars  on  the  siding  seemed  to  be 
moving  when  they  were  not  ?  ' ' 

"  I've  naturally  thought  a  good  deal  about 
it, ' '  said  the  big  boy.  ' '  It  may  have  been  some 
shadow  thrown  along  the  flat  cars  by  the  wav 
ing  of  some  trees  just  south  of  them,  or  the 
running  motion  of  the  approaching  Limited 
may  have  produced  the  impression  on  my  mind 
of  motion  in  the  flat  cars.  As  for  the  fact  that 
the  engine  threw  me  so  far  and  yet  did  not  kill 
me,  that  is  more  difficult.  I  suppose  I  jumped 
—  the  thing  was  done  so  quick  I  really  don't 
know  —  but  I  suppose  I  jumped  the  way  the 
engine  was  going,  only  a  little  toward  the 
south,  for  I  picked  myself  up  from  that  side  of 


160          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  track  about  thirty  feet  ahead.  There  must 
be  a  sort  of  billow  or  wave  of  air  gushing  out 
ahead  of  an  engine  when  it  is  running  at  high 
speed,  and  this  air  wave  must  turn  off  to  the 
right  and  left  as  water  would.  Maybe  I 
jumped  into  and  with  this  forward  bounding 
air  wave  and  was  really  thrown  off  by  that  in 
stead  of  by  a  blow  from  the  engine.  Anyway, 
the  air  billow  may  have  served  as  a  sort  of 
cushion  over  the  boiler-head  so  that  the  engine 
struck  me  very  lightly,  if  it  struck  me  at  all. 
There  was  a  bruise  on  my  right  shoulder,  but 
if  it  came  from  the  engine  or  the  fall  I  am  not 
sure." 

' '  You  seem  to  be  considerable  of  a  thinker, ' ' 
observed  Burke  admiringly.  "  Have  you  had 
much  schooling?  " 

"  In  the  Denver  grammar  school  and  the 
high  school,  that  is  all." 

"  That's  a  good  deal.  Do  you  consider  your 
self  competent  to  run  a  station?  ' 

"  I  think  I  could  manage  a  small  one." 


THE    BONNETS  161 

"  I  am  going  to  make  a  change  at  High  Bon 
net.  Would  you  like  to  go  there?  ' 

"  If  you  would  like  to  have  me,  yes." 

"  All  right;  I  look  for  you  to  make  some 
thing  worth  while  of  yourself." 

So  Joey  went  over  to  High  Bonnet,  and  we 
despatchers  at  Paley  Fork,  sixty  miles  east, 
"  had  him  on  the  string."  More  than  once  we 
canvassed  his  explanation  of  his  escape  from 
the  1300,  and  concluded  that  his  hypothesis  was 
not  bad.  In  fact,  the  writer,  keeping  his  eye 
for  years  on  reports  of  railroad  accidents,  has 
found  two  cases  of  escape  almost  precisely  like 
Joey's. 

Joey  seemed  not  to  have  fallen  into  a  berth 
at  all  velvety,  over  at  High  Bonnet.  The 
people  of  Low  Bonnet  had  not  made  life  easy 
for  the  incumbent  whom  Joey  displaced;  they 
doubled  the  dose  for  the  new  man.  Being  in 
censed  with  the  railroad  company,  they  "  took 
it  out  "  on  the  company's  representative.  He 
was  reported  to  Burke  several  times,  but  the 


162          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

superintendent  thought  the  incentive  mainly 
spleen  and  let  the  complaints  pass.  Still,  it 
would  only  have  been  a  matter  of  time  when 
"  kicking  "  must  have  loosened  Joey  from  his 
place  but  for  the  unexpected  unification  of  the 
Bonnets. 

It  chanced  that  I  was  on  the  wire  when  it 
occurred.  The  time  was  April  and  the  moun 
tain  avalanche  was  in  order.  Several  of  our 
trains  had  stuck  their  noses  into  landslides,  in 
two  cases  disastrously.  Afar  on  the  white 
shoulders  of  mountains  appeared  dark  per 
pendicular  streaks,  showing  where  mighty 
masses  of  softening  snow  had  rushed  down 
ward,  crumbling  boulders  into  gravel  and 
crushing  forests  as  a  giant  might  crush  a  hand 
ful  of  matches.  The  streams  were  all  swollen 
with  rain  and  melted  snow. 

Trains  had  come  on  to  our  Middle  Division 
late  that  day  from  the  East  End,  and  the  Den 
ver  Express,  from  the  West  End,  was  an  hour 
and  thirty  minutes  late  at  Pecos,  twelve  miles 


THE    BONNETS  163 

west  of  High  Bonnet.  That  was  at  about  three 
o'clock  P.  M.  on  a  Wednesday,  my  record 
shows.  West  bound  freight  Number  10  rolled 
down  through  Peace  Canyon  and  Joey  re 
ported  them  out  of  High  Bonnet  at  one-five. 
He  also  reported  that  they  had  set  twelve  cars 
of  way-freight  in  on  Echo  Siding,  the  engine 
of  Number  10  having  become  disabled  and  in 
capable  of  holding  a  full  train  on  the  steep 
grade. 

The  rear  brakeman  on  Number  10  was  the 
man  who  committed  the  unpardonable  sin;  he 
failed  to  close  the  switch  at  Echo  Siding.  He 
must  have  been  drinking,  for  surely  not  more 
than  one  or  two  brakes  on  the  twelve  cars  left 
on  the  Siding  were  set,  otherwise  the  cars 
would  not  have  been  blown  out  on  the  main 
line.  As  it  was,  a  strong  wind,  sucking  down 
through  the  canyon  from  Muley  Pass,  moved 
the  twelve  loaded  box  cars  out  on  the  main 
track,  and  they  started  for  Arizona. 

High   Bonnet   was   eighteen  miles   west   of 


164          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Echo  Siding.  Six  miles  west  of  the  Siding  the 
Peace  River  plunged  down  a  twisting  stair  of 
stone  called  Satan's  Slide,  and  to  compass  the 
difficult  curve  at  this  point  the  rails  passed 
through  a  considerable  tunnel.  At  the  west 
mouth  of  the  tunnel  stood  a  sheet-iron  hut,  the 
station  of  a  track-walker  named  Dillon,  who, 
knowing  something  of  the  Morse  code,  had  been 
furnished  with  a  telegraph  instrument. 

Leaving  the  Siding  at  a  slow  pace,  the  twelve 
cars  quickened  their  speed  as  the  grade  in 
creased,  and  they  came  through  the  tunnel  with 
a  roar  like  thunder.  The  walker  was  nearly 
a  mile  west  and  he  thought  the  whole  roof  of 
the  great  bore  had  tumbled  in.  He  started  for 
the  tunnel  on  a  run,  and  came  near  being  hit 
by  the  string  of  mad  things  that  in  a  few  mo 
ments  met  him.  Tumbling  off  the  track,  he 
watched  the  twelve  reeling  cars  disappear 
down  the  curving  groove  in  a  tumult  of  noise ; 
then  he  made  for  the  tunnel.  The  runaway 
had  about  eleven  miles  to  go  to  make  High 


THE    BONNETS  165 

Bonnet.  Five  miles  below  High  Bonnet  the 
Denver  Express  was  coming  up  the  grade,  but 
the  track  was  spongy  from  the  rains,  and  she 
was  coming  rather  slow.  None  the  less,  the 
runaway  was  going  down  to  meet  her  at  ap 
palling  speed.  Dillon  made  a  good  run  to  the 
little  sheet-iron  hut,  but  the  way  was  up  grade 
and  he  fell  into  the  house  like  a  drunken  man. 

"  S-k,  S-k,  S-k,"  he  called,  and  sitting  at 
the  despatcher's  table  over  in  Paley  Fork,  I 
heard  him. 

"  I,  I,  S-k,"  I  rapped  on  the  brass. 

"  String  of  cars  just  went  down  the  moun 
tains,  going  like  a  snowslide,"  he  said. 

A  thrill  went  over  me  like  a  gush  of  fire. 
61  How  many  cars?  "  I  asked. 

"  Couldn't  count  'em,  'bout  a  dozen,  I 
guess." 

I  held  the  circuit-breaker  open  a  moment  try 
ing  to  get  my  senses  together.  "  Must  be  the 
twelve  cars  that  Number  10  threw  in  on  Echo 
Siding,  "I  thought. 


166          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

I  began  to  call  Joey  at  High  Bonnet  with  all 
my  might.  "  H-b,  H-b,  H-b,  H-b!  "  the  dots 
and  dashes  zipped,  but  no  reply  came  back. 
"H-b,  H-b,  H-b,  H-b!"  and  still  there  was 
silence.  Perspiration  began  to  trickle  down 
my  face.  A  fancy  that  curdled  my  blood 
swayed  before  me.  I  saw  the  twelve  flying  cars 
go  through  High  Bonnet,  and  a  half-mile  below 
the  station  strike  the  Express  and  break  it  in 
pieces.  The  lives  —  the  lives  that  there  would 
find  a  bloody  close!  In  my  heart  for  a  little 
space  was  a  frightful  anger  with  Joey,  then  un 
consciously  that  feeling  turned  to  prayer. 
Cursing  is  artificial,  prayer  is  natural;  in  the 
last  extreme  we  all  pray.  As  I  beat  Joey's 
call  on  the  key  I  involuntarily  begged  God  to 
send  the  lad  to  the  wire  that  I  might  tell  him 
to  throw  the  runaway  in  on  the  siding  at  High 
Bonnet,  even  though  it  swept  the  station  away. 

But  Joey  had  heard  Dillon  wire  me,  and  had 
seen  the  same  vision  of  destruction  for  the  Ex 
press  that  so  dismayed  me.  He  had  not  waited 


THE    BONNETS  167 

to  say  a  word  to  me,  but  caught  a  switch-key 
from  a  nail  in  the  office  wall,  and  leaped 
through  the  window  on  to  the  platform.  The 
cars  were  coming  down  from  Echo  Siding, 
from  the  same  rails  along  which  he  so 
strangely  fancied  that  he  saw  the  flats  moving 
that  day  when  he  jumped  in  front  of  the  1300. 
It  was  odd,  yet  doubtless  only  a  coincidence. 
Dillon  had  been  compelled  to  run  nearly  a  mile 
to  the  tunnel  station,  and  by  the  time  he  called 
me  six  or  seven  minutes  had  elapsed. 

Joey  heard  the  runaway ;  down  the  descend 
ing  groove  that  followed  the  mountain's  base 
rolled  a  boiling  clamor  of  sound.  Several 
people  were  waiting  on  the  platform  for  the 
Express. 

6  i  There  is  going  to  be  a  wreck  —  on  the 
switch  track  on  the  north  side  of  the  station! 
Keep  on  the  south  side  of  the  station  or  you'll 
be  killed!  "  he  shouted,  and  ran  to  the  east  end 
of  the  side  track. 

He  hurriedly  unlocked  the  switch  and  pushed 


168          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  slide-rails  over.  Like  a  hurricane  the 
twelve  loaded  cars  rushed  into  view.  Rocking 
and  reeling  in  their  swift  flight,  they  whirled 
on  to  the  side  track.  Joey  drew  back  and  bent 
half-way  to  the  earth,  his  lips  open  and  white, 
his  eyes  staring.  Stretching  along  by  the  sta 
tion  stood  five  box  cars  and  three  flats.  The 
twelve  loads  struck  them  with  a  mashing  con 
cussion  that  shook  the  mountain  to  its  base.  A 
roar  as  of  crashing  thunder  echoed  for  miles 
around,  the  cars  burst  into  fragments,  the 
whole  north  side  of  the  station  sank  in  like  a 
crushed  egg-shell. 

With  shouts  of  fright  and  amazement,  the 
people  started  to  run,  then  suddenly  a  far  more 
amazing  thing  occurred  —  High  Bonnet,  which 
consisted  of  the  station  and  four  small  houses, 
swept  down  to  Low  Bonnet!  A  part  of  the 
mountain's  base,  nearly  a  half-mile  long  and 
some  four  hundred  feet  wide,  slipped  down  like 
a  huge  toboggan  and  jammed  its  edge  solidly 
against  the  south  shore  of  the  Peace,  the 


THE    BONNETS  169 

waters  of  the  river  being  spurted  up  and 
sprayed  over  Low  Bonnet  as  from  a  sort  of 
gigantic  hose.  The  two  little  towns  were  liter 
ally  cemented  together,  and  Low  Bonnet  at  last 
had  a  depot,  somewhat  disfigured,  and  a  short 
piece  of  railroad  track,  a  good  deal  rumpled 
and  out  of  line. 

No  one  was  injured  in  the  landslide,  the 
great  cake  of  earth  remaining  in  the  main 
unbroken.  Joey  went  down  with  it,  and  for  the 
moment  was  stunned  by  the  phenomenon. 
Then  he  thought  of  the  Express.  Would  it 
plunge  off  the  end  of  the  rails  into  the  abyss 
left  by  the  slide?  There  was  no  means  by 
which  he  could  get  to  the  north  side  of  the 
great  rupture.  But  Carl  Peters,  at  the  throttle 
of  the  Express  engine,  and  not  a  half-mile 
from  High  Bonnet  station,  heard  the  jarring 
thunder  of  the  slide  and  saw  houses  and  track 
disappearing  in  front  of  him,  and  shut  off 
steam. 

Burke,  and  several  of  us  from  the  despatch- 


170          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

er's  office,  went  over  to  High  Bonnet  in  a  hurry 
when  Joey  had  climbed  to  the  tunnel  station 
and  reported.  We  found  High  Bonnet  and  our 
station  and  tracks  down  at  Low  Bonnet,  where, 
doubtless,  they  properly  belonged.  Inspection 
of  the  base  of  the  slide  revealed  the  ease  with 
which  the  extraordinary  thing  had  fallen.  The 
rock  formation  ascended  from  the  river  bed 
upward  under  the  mountain  like  the  steep  roof 
of  a  house;  this  inclined  plane  was  soaked  by 
the  rains  and  the  snow  water  seeping  down 
the  mountain,  while  the  river  had  cut  away  the 
natural  supports  at  the  bottom  of  the  incline. 
The  earth  imposed  on  this  wet  "  chute  "  being 
shaken  by  the  terrible  collision  at  High  Bonnet 
station,  and  probably  loosened  by  blastings 
when  the  track  was  under  construction,  broke 
loose  and  all  went  down  together.  The  river 
finally  cut  a  way  around  through  an  old  chan 
nel  to  the  south  of  Low  Bonnet. 

Clearly  the  track  could  not  be  reconstructed 
to    advantage    where    it    formerly    ran,    and, 


THE    BONNETS  171 

besides,  there  was  now  no  place  for  a  station 
on  the  mountain's  foot,  so  finally  a  horseshoe 
of  rails  was  laid  in  Peace  Canyon  and  the  line 
brought  down  through  Low  Bonnet.  They 
called  the  place  simply  Bonnet  after  that. 

Joey's  nerve  had  certainly  produced  strange 
results,  but  the  Express  and  the  lives  of  its 
passengers  had  been  saved,  that  was  clear,  and 
Burke  declared  the  lad  was  made  of  the  l  i  real 
stuff  "  and  entitled  to  the  Diamond  Key.  As 
for  the  citizens  of  Bonnet,  Joey  was  their  hero; 
even  after  Blake  brought  him  over  to  Paley 
Fork  and  set  him  at  better  things,  the  Bonnet 
people  on  several  anniversaries  of  the  great 
slide  sent  him  testimonials  of  their  remem 
brance  and  regard. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  MOUNTAIN'S  VOICE 

l^TECTARINE  MORGAN  followed  the  iron 
-*-l  trail  slowly;  up  the  long,  winding  valley 
of  the  Big  Bear  Paw  from  Manzano,  around 
the  northern  base  of  Ball  Mountain,  through 
fifteen  miles,  then  off  to  the  left  and  up  the 
narrow  canyon  of  the  Little  Bear  Paw  and  on 
ward  into  the  Saddle  Bow  Range.  He  was  of 
worn  aspect,  roughly  clad,  lame,  and  dusty. 
When  he  had  traversed  the  miles  of  ties  that 
curved  and  looped  around  the  mighty  hips  of 
Dukes  Peak,  and  came  that  evening  to  the 
mouth  of  Blue  Canyon,  near  the  Colorado 
Line,  he  had  been  three  days  on  the  road. 

He  was  a  young  man,  in  stature  a  little  below 
the  medium  height,  naturally  straight,  but  now 

172 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     173 

bent  with  strain  and  injury.  Despite  the  tan 
ning  fervor  of  the  Arizona  sun,  his  flesh,  where 
free  of  the  stain  of  concussion,  was  milky.  His 
eyes  were  large,  dark,  and  of  brilliant  cast,  his 
hair  a  dull  bronze-red.  Obviously  of  consti 
tutional  ingredients  he  had  an  odd  blend.  The 
dark  splendor  of  his  eyes  spoke  of  Spanish 
blood,  but  the  tint  of  his  flesh  and  hair,  the 
sensitiveness  of  his  hands  and  mouth  and  nos 
trils,  were  eloquently  Irish.  Save  for  a  num 
ber  of  healing  bruises,  he  would  have  affected 
the  beholder  not  unpleasantly.  As  it  was,  his 
appeal  to  the  eye  was  marred  by  a  swollen 
cheek-bone,  a  blue  bruise  that  covered  nearly 
the  whole  of  his  forehead,  and  a  chin  that  had 
been  split  by  a  kick  or  blow  and  was  patched 
with  court-plaster. 

Towards  sunset  he  turned  aside  from  the 
track,  and,  finding  a  cool  ledge  at  the  base  of 
the  blasting,  sat  down.  He  felt  fearfully  weak 
and  worn.  He  had  eaten  little  since  he  quit 
Manzano,  the  division  station,  partly  because 


174          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

he  was  drenched  and  burned  with  acids  of 
rage,  partly  because  he  had  no  money.  He  had 
drank  a  good  deal  of  water,  both  from  the 
Big  Bear  Paw  and  the  Little  Bear  Paw,  for 
he  was  hot  with  fever.  But  the  icy  snow  water 
from  the  peaks  of  the  inner  range  had  only 
made  him  seem  the  more  thirsty.  He  had 
spoken  to  but  few  people  on  the  way.  Eight 
miles  out  from  Manzano  he  had  come  to  a  sec 
tion  gang  tamping  ties,  and  had  asked  if  he 
might  take  a  drink  from  the  willow-encased 
jug.  The  foreman  had  looked  him  over  sus 
piciously. 

"  Ain't  yeas  one  of  thim  divils  that  helped 
t'  break  th'  foirmen's  an'  engineers'  stroike?  ' 
he  demanded  savagely. 

"  I  am,"  the  young  fellow  had  replied. 

"  Well,  ye  scab,  ye  floatin'  greaser,  yeas  p'int 
out  o'  this!  Ye '11  have  th'  treat  of  a  track- 
wrench  over  y'r  pate  instead  of  wather,  if  yeas 
loaf  around  here.  D'  ye  moind  now,  gwan!  " 

The  young  chap  had  looked  at  the  red-faced 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     175 

foreman  a  moment  with  torches  of  flame  in  his 
eyes,  then  had  walked  onward.  He  was  not 
looking  for  quarry  such  as  this  man.  After 
that  his  lips,  lately  swollen,  but  now  reduced 
in  thickness  and  peeling  off  their  outer  skin, 
drank  only  from  streams  and  partook  only  of 
the  little  food  wrapped  in  his  blanket  by  the 
Mexican  woman  at  whose  house  he  had  lain 
sick  after  his  great  punishment. 

He  sat  through  a  few  moments  now,  staring 
at  the  stones  about  his  feet,  then  lay  back  on 
the  ledge  and  looked  up  at  the  shattered  wall 
of  rock  above  him.  The  time  was  late  in  April 
and  the  rocks  dripped  moisture,  oozing  from 
the  mountainside  into  the  groove  torn  by 
dynamite  across  the  mighty  slope.  A  drop 
from  directly  above  him  detached  itself  and, 
falling,  struck  with  a  cold  "  spat  "  upon  the 
sore  spot  in  the  centre  of  his  forehead.  He 
gasped,  and  put  his  hand  up,  then  lay  still  and 
watched  the  drops  gather  again  and  again, 
receiving  each  with  a  little  quiver  and  sigh  as 


176          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

it  fell  upon  his  brow.  There  was  a  marvelous 
difference  between  the  blows  struck  by  these 
cooling,  velvet  things  and  the  hard  fists  of 
Stephen  Fox  and  Pelt  Hughes.  With  the 
thought  he  sat  up  suddenly  and  struck  one 
gripped  fist  into  the  palm  of  the  other  with 
such  violence  that  the  smitten  hand  leaped 
away  and  hung  fluttering.  He  arose  to  his  feet 
and  a  long  cry,  raucous,  harsh,  came  from  him, 
ending  in  a  wild  oath.  For  the  moment  his 
face  was  purple,  his  neck-cords  stood  out,  and 
the  tiny  tatters  of  scarf-skin  about  his  mouth 
shook  with  angry  breath.  He  stepped  upon 
the  track  again  and  hurried  onward,  looking 
hungrily  ahead. 

Somewhere  in  that  region  lay  the  trestle,  he 
felt  sure,  the  instrument  through  which  he 
would  find  revenge  and  ease  his  bursting  heart 
of  its  hatred  and  rage.  Above  him  spread  a 
sky  of  vitriol  blue,  streaked  with  films  of  pink ; 
about  him  the  Eange  rolled  in  monstrous  welts, 
solemn  and  brown;  below  in  the  canyon  the 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     177 

Little  Bear  Paw  pushed  through  the  silence 
its  flood  of  twinkling  diamonds;  but  the 
strange  beauty  of  the  region  left  upon  him  no 
mark,  went  unrecognized.  He  had  come  a 
three  days'  journey  on  foot  to  find  the  trestle, 
and  now  as  he  neared  it  something  boiled  up 
about  him  like  scalding  froth,  half-blinding 
him.  He  felt  the  sticks  of  giant  powder  in  his 
pocket  patting  his  side  near  his  heart.  He 
would  see  that  these  genii  of  destruction  should 
bring  down  the  trestle  at  the  right  moment, 
that  Engineer  Fox,  and  Pelt  Hughes,  his  fire 
man,  might  feel  far  deadlier  blows  than  they 
had  given  him. 

Yes,  he  remembered  it  all  very  well,  indeed ; 
much  as  he  might  have  remembered  had  he 
been  plunged  into  a  bath  of  fire  and  lived.  The 
events  of  that  particular  night  in  the  round 
house  at  Manzano  were  not  likely  ever  to  pass 
from  his  memory;  the  crushing  blows  of  big 
fists,  the  agony  of  his  body  under  stamping 
feet;  and,  again,  wild  moments  when  he  was 


178          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

pinioned  by  the  throat  against  a  wall  until  the 
darkness  was  drenched  with  streaming  fire  and 
he  slipped  into  oblivion. 

He  remembered  distinctly  the  strange  mo 
ment  when  he  came  back  to  consciousness, 
sprawling  among  the  stones  where  he  had  been 
thrown  into  the  night  like  so  much  carrion. 
"  SCAB!  GREASER!  "  were  the  hot  epithets 
he  had  heard  hissed  above  him  as  Hughes 
kicked  him.  After  that,  being  left  alone,  he 
crawled  away  through  the  stones,  leaving 
blood  upon  them  as  he  went;  and,  finding  suc 
cor  and  a  hiding-place  in  the  little  adobe  house 
of  a  Mexican  woman,  lay  there  through  two 
weeks'  mending  of  his  hurts.  During  those 
days  something  gathered  at  the  roots  of  his 
heart;  sacs  of  venom,  as  at  the  roots  of  ser 
pents'  teeth.  This  gall  of  hate  was  foreign  to 
his  sanguine,  kindly  nature,  and  filled  him  with 
sickness  and  fever.  Would  a  realized  revenge 
cool  and  cleanse  his  blood!  He  did  not  know 
nor  care,  only  pushed  onward. 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     179 

As  he  rounded  a  bend  and  emerged  from  the 
cut  he  suddenly  lifted  his  hands  in  a  gesture 
of  astonishment  and  stopped  stone-still.  Away 
at  the  eastern  end  of  Blue  Canyon,  thirty  miles 
distant,  rose  Temple  Mountain,  ,a  gleaming 
structure  of  alabaster.  Wrapped  in  snow  that 
would  not  melt  before  August,  it  towered  sky 
ward  white,  mystical,  wonderful.  Throned  in 
dignity  and  awesome  purity,  it  looked  down 
upon  the  craggy,  tumbled  billows  of  the  range, 
dominating  all  in  its  majesty.  He  gazed  at  it 
through  the  long  hollow  of  the  canyon  steadily 
for  a  few  moments,  then  his  hands  fell,  and 
into  his  face  crept  a  look  of  doubt  and  waver 
ing  indecision.  He  drew  a  long  breath,  walked 
away  from  the  track  and  sat  down  upon  a  stone 
and  looked  again.  The  yellowish  light  from 
the  setting  sun  beat  into  the  canyon  from  the 
west,  filling  the  mighty  groove  eastward  with 
a  translucent  medium  faintly  golden.  Through 
that  halo  of  ether  he  looked  at  the  spotless 
mountain  for  many  minutes,  feeling  its  spirit 


180          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

of  beauty  and  purity  creep  upon  him,  quieting, 
faintly  delicious.  His  black  mood  slowly  ebbed 
and  he  began  to  remember  old  scenes,  as  one 
who  listens  to  tender  music.  At  heart  he  was 
poetic,  and  being  so,  was  in  a  sense  spiritual, 
but  personal  consciousness  of  the  quality  was 
far  from  him.  With  his  elbows  on  his  knees 
and  his  chin  in  his  hands  he  gazed,  and,  with 
something  like  a  rosy  light  gathering  in  his 
eyes,  breathed  his  deep  appreciation. 

"  God,  but  that  is  purity!  "  was  the  apos 
trophe,  emitted  in  a  kind  of  gasping  sigh.  His 
chin  sank  a  little  deeper  into  his  hands  and  the 
gold  in  the  air  and  the  light  of  the  mountain 
swam  upon  his  bruised  face,  touching  it  pleas 
antly. 

Old  scenes  seemed  to  run  through  the  air 
before  him,  invisible  yet  visible,  with  the 
mountain  shimmering  in  white  splendor  be 
yond  them.  He  was  conscious  of  many  little 
things  that  fell  in  his  earlier  years.  He  re 
membered  lying  flat  on  his  back  upon  a  grassy 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     181 

hump,  back  of  his  father's  house  in  San  Marko 
Valley,  California,  dreamily  watching  the 
honey-bees  fly  over  from  old  Peter  Burley's 
bee  ranch,  back  of  Smoke  Hill.  As  the  bees 
burst  over  the  hill  into  the  sunshine,  going  to 
the  alfalfa  fields  and  orchards  down  the  valley, 
they  always  seemed  to  rise  as  if  blown  upward, 
he  remembered,  turning  whitish  and  sparkling 
faintly  like  half-hot  cinders.  The  stream  of 
them  going  homeward  flew  lower  and  more 
slowly,  looking  gray  and  heavy,  though  they, 
too,  when  they  mounted  suddenly  up  into  the 
sunshine,  going  over  the  hill,  also  sparkled. 
He  saw  them  very  plainly  now.  He  remem 
bered  the  morning  light  on  a  silver  cross  that 
topped  the  steeple  of  a  church  down  in  the 
little  town  of  San  Marko,  two  miles  below,  and 
how  the  cross  seemed  at  times  to  be  edged  with 
lustrous  insects,  buzzing  silvery  wings  and 
creeping  very  slowly.  He  still  believed  the 
cross  was  silver,  though  it  was  in  reality 
spruce  wood  covered  with  tin.  He  remem- 


182          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

bered  the  lights  running  to  and  fro  upon  the 
sea,  twenty  miles  westward,  and  how  they 
snapped  and  curled  like  burning  shavings  and 
went  out  and  were  ceaselessly  renewed.  All 
that  passed  before  him  seemed  soft  and  beau 
tiful  and  touched  with  hues  of  light,  mirrored 
against  the  lustrous  mountain. 

Then  he  slowly  became  conscious  of  a  mur 
mur  in  the  mountains,  of  echoes  whispering 
on  the  soaring  walls.  These  grew  and  grew 
until  out  of  the  mouth  of  Blue  Canyon,  half 
way  up  its  northern  steep,  burst  a  locomotive 
and  a  long  train  of  freight-cars,  and  the  echoes 
beat  upon  the  walls  like  a  thousand  hands  ap 
plauding.  For  a  few  minutes  the  train,  curv 
ing  toward  the  left,  disappeared,  then  suddenly 
appeared  before  him  and  with  the  next  moment 
was  rushing  by.  He  had  risen  to  his  feet  at 
its  approach  and  turned  toward  the  track  as  it 
neared  him.  When  the  engine  was  almost 
opposite  him  a  man  in  overalls,  with  his  hand 
on  the  throttle  lever  and  leaning  from  the  cab 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     183 

window,  glanced  at  him.  The  man  instantly 
twisted  his  body  on  the  window-rest  and  looked 
back,  laughing  and  wrinkling  his  features 
mockingly.  He  shouted  something  to  the  fire 
man  and  that  worthy  leaped  into  the  gangway 
and  leaned  out,  yelling  derisively  and  twid 
dling  his  fingers  from  his  nose  at  the  gaunt  and 
dusty  bystander. 

"Fox!  Pelt  Hughes!"  broke  from  the 
young  fellow's  lips.  He  turned  toward  Temple 
Mountain,  but  only  saw  it  dimly;  about  him 
and  within  him  welled  up  that  sultry,  furious 
vapor  that  changed  the  face  of  nature.  His 
mouth  worked,  his  eyes  blazed  redly,  his  hands 
crumpled  into  white-knuckled  knots;  dream 
and  remembrance  and  the  music  of  sweet 
thoughts  touching  together  in  his  brain  were 
swept  away  in  the  wave  of  hate  that  rolled 
over  him.  He  turned  about  and,  unconscious 
of  what  he  was  doing,  rushed  after  the  train 
a  little  way,  distorted  of  feature  and  shouting 
fearful  things.  Suddenly  he  turned  aside  to 


184          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  wall  of  the  blasting  and  flung  himself 
against  it,  beating  it  with  his  open  palms  and 
burying  his  bruised  face  in  the  hollow  of  his 
arms,  crying  out  as  a  wolf  might  cry  while 
tearing  at  the  jaws  of  an  impaling  trap.  Pres 
ently,  shaking  and  muttering,  he  turned  and 
looked  where  the  train  had  disappeared;  its 
noise  in  diminishing  volume  came  up  the  long 
flexures  of  the  Little  Bear  Paw.  When  its 
grinding  roar  had  died  into  whispering  and  the 
whispering  had  lapsed  into  silence,  he  turned 
eastward  again  like  a  hound  hot  upon  the  trail. 
At  the  end  of  a  thousand  feet  the  earth 
broke  downward  before  him  into  a  basin  of 
ten  or  twelve  acres  in  area.  Into  this  basin 
Blue  Canyon  opened  from  the  east,  bringing 
a  creek  to  the  Little  Bear  Paw,  the  little  river 
itself  twisting  into  the  basin  from  the  north 
east  through  a  narrow  defile.  The  track  of  the 
Western  Central,  emerging  from  Blue  Canyon 
on  its  northern  side,  crossed  the  basin  in  the 
air.  At  the  eastern  edge  of  the  basin,  directly 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     185 

over  the  Little  Bear  Paw,  the  structure  might 
properly  have  been  designated  a  bridge,  west 
of  that  through  some  eight  hundred  feet  it  was 
a  trestle,  the  track  being  imposed  upon  sixty- 
foot  bents  of  iron.  A  mountain  monster  of 
strange  kind,  many-legged  and  with  its  steel 
spine  high  in  the  air,  the  trestle  curved  across 
the  basin,  suggesting  chances  of  disaster. 

Nectarine  looked  at  it  and  threw  a  hand  to 
his  throat,  as  if  the  blood  of  his  body,  crowd 
ing  suddenly  toward  his  brain,  gorged  in  his 
neck.  This  was  Blue  Basin  trestle !  The  hand 
slipped  down  from  his  throat  to  the  giant  pow 
der  sticks  in  his  pocket.  When  Steve  Fox  and 
Pelt  Hughes  came  back  on  the  return  trip  — 
If  not  at  that  time,  then  when  again  they  came 
over  the  range  from  the  east-  He  stared  at 
the  trestle,  seeing  in  fancy  a  pair  of  the  spin 
dling  supports  hurled  away  and  an  engine  and 
train  plunging  down  to  ruin,  the  two  who  had 
stamped  him  under  foot  writhing  in  torture 
in  the  crush  of  things. 


186          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  Would  it  not  be  just?  "  he  asked  himself. 
What  had  he  done  that  he  should  have  been 
torn  and  beaten  and  cast  out?  He  had  needed 
work,  he  had  wanted  to  drag  himself  out  of 
poverty  and  get  on  in  the  world.  He  had  only 
taken  a  crumb  from  the  great  Common  Table, 
the  humble  position  of  a  wiper  in  the  engine- 
house,  the  wipers  themselves  having  quit  in 
sympathy  with  the  striking  enginemen.  He 
had  been  cleaning  Stephen  Fox's  engine,  the 
488,  when  the  storm  fell  upon  him.  What  did 
he,  fresh  from  his  lowly  life  among  the  foot 
hills,  know  of  Unions,  of  economics,  of  men 
banding  themselves  together  for  self-better 
ment!  He  had  been  caught  between  two  battle 
lines  and  trampled  down,  between  two  forces, 
each  of  which  fought  for  more  of  the  thing 
which  he  himself  desired.  Perhaps  there  was 
a  world  of  blind  men  rushing  blindly  after  that 
which  only  blinded  them  the  more,  but  this 
which  had  befallen  him  was  a  mighty,  personal 
hurt ;  the  sore  was  not  a  matter  of  factions  or 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     187 

of  causes,  it  lay  between  his  own  soul  and  the 
souls  of  the  two  fellow  beings  who  had  stran 
gled  and  beaten  and  stamped  his  body  among 
stones  and  ashes.  But  what  about  the  fate  of 
the  other  members  of  the  train-crew,  those  who 
had  done  him  no  harm!  How  could  he  help 
whelming  them  in  the  same  wild  ruin  with  his 
enemies'?  He  ran  his  fingers  through  his 
snarled  locks  doubtingly,  then  suddenly  struck 
his  fists  into  the  air. 

"  Let  'em  die,"  he  rasped,  through  clenched 
teeth,  "  let  'em  die;  they'd  done  th'  same 
thing  to  me;  they're  members  of  th'  same 
gang!  " 

"  Hello,  young  feller,  what  yeh  preachin' 
'bout?  The  sunset  light  on  old  Temple  inspire 
yeh  t'  orate?  "  The  voice  was  gruff,  but 
hearty;  the  speaker,  a  big,  middle-aged, 
roughly  appareled  man,  was  pausing  in  a  path 
that  crossed  the  slope  some  fifty  feet  below  the 
younger  man.  Upon  one  of  the  stranger's 
wide  shoulders  rested  a  crowbar  and  a  pick. 


188          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Nectarine  looked  at  him,  thrilling  from  head 
to  foot.  A  human  shape  suddenly  lifting  itself 
in  that  solitude  and  in  presence  of  his  black 
intention  was  profoundly  disconcerting.  He 
shuffled  his  feet  and  looked  abroad. 

"  Which  way?  "  asked  the  man,  laughingly. 
"  If  y'r  lookin'  for  Denver  it's  not  over  south 
where  y'r  lookin';  it's  'bout  two  hundred  mile 
northeast.  Mebbe  y'r  lookin'  for  work;  if  so, 
come  down  an'  interview  me;  I'm  needin'  a 
man  bad." 

The  young  fellow  pulled  himself  together. 
"  Well,  yes,  I  am  lookin'  for  work,  I  suppose," 
he  admitted,  "  but  didn't  'spect  to  find  it  here. 
All  right,  I'll  come  down." 

When  he  stood  in  the  trail  the  big  man 
looked  at  him  with  his  mouth  twitching  in  his 
beard.  "  Look  some  hurt  like;  been  fightin'?  " 
he  queried. 

"  No,  didn't  have  a  chanst  t'  fight." 

"  Hobo?  " 

"  No." 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     189 

"  Scab!  " 

"  I  'spose  so." 

"  Sore?  " 

"  Sore." 

"  You  look  it.    Come  on  t'  th'  cabin." 

Nectarine  looked  about  him.  In  the  basin's 
bottom  was  a  great  earth  wound,  a  rent  from 
two  to  three  hundred  feet  in  width  and  some 
ten  feet  in  depth,  extending  from  the  Little 
Bear  Paw  at  the  south  across  the  basin  to  the 
trestle  at  the  north.  In  the  excavation,  near 
the  trestle,  he  saw  an  object  very  like  a  huge 
brass  cannon,  with  an  iron  pipe  leading  to  it 
down  the  steep  from  the  northwest.  He  knew 
that  sort  of  thing  very  well  indeed,  having 
worked  in  more  than  one  hydraulic  mine, 

"  Gravel  very  deep?  "  he  asked. 

"  From  grass  roots  to  bedrock." 

"  Dust  all  th'  way?  " 

66  All  th'  way;    not  very  plenty,  but  pay." 

He  followed  the  man  along  the  trail  and 
presently  they  came  to  a  cabin,  a  rather  large 


190          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

affair  of  hewn  logs,  half-covered  with  green 
creeper  and  backed  by  the  steep  slope  of  the 
canyon's  side.  In  front  of  it  was  a  small 
"  sag  "  of  ground  with  a  bubbling  spring  in  it 
and  a  garden,  irrigated  from  the  spring,  and 
not  greater  in  area  than  the  floor  of  an  ordi 
nary  room.  An  ancient  Chinaman,  queued  and 
with  skin  like  wrinkled  brown  paper,  was 
bringing  some  radishes  from  the  garden.  His 
small  black  eyes  glowed  beadily  with  welcome. 
Upon  a  small  board  platform  in  front  of  the 
door  lay  a  dog,  decrepit  with  years,  but  young 
with  love  and  good-will.  Thumping  the  boards 
with  his  tail,  he  wrinkled  his  nose  in  welcoming 
laughter. 

"  Let's  see,  what  is  y'r  name?  "  asked  the 
master  of  the  place,  turning  toward  the  young 
fellow. 

"  Nectarine  Morgan." 

The  big  man's  mouth  twitched  in  his  beard 
again.  "  Juicy  sort  of  handle,"  he  grunted. 
11  Where 'd  yeh  find  it?  " 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     191 

i  l  In  California ;   born  there. ' ' 

"  Yes!  Nectarines  air  a  sort  o'  Spanish 
plum,  ain't  they?  " 

"  Yes;  my  mother  was  Spanish,  I  think; 
mebby  that's  how  it  come." 

"  Yeh  think!    Don't  yeh  know?  " 

' '  Not  sure ;  I  never  seen  her ;  anyway  I 
don't  remember.  Father  never  said  much 
'bout  her.  I  lived  with  him  when  I  was  little. 
He  was  killed  when  they  was  blastin'  th'  San 
Marko  irrigation  ditch.  I  went  t'  school  a 
little,  'nen  worked  on  ranches  an'  in  th'  or 
chards." 

"  All  right.  Well,  my  name's  Fox,  Thomas 
Fox;  got  a  brother  runnin'  an  engine  on  th' 
road  here."  He  made  a  motion  toward  the 
track  on  the  mountainside.  ' '  This  is  my  f am- 
bly,  Mr.  Morgan,  John  and  Buck."  He  waved 
his  hand  toward  the  Chinaman  and  the  dog. 
' '  Have  a  chair ;  set  down.  After  supper  we  '11 
smoke  an'  talk  business." 

The    man    leaned    the    crowbar    and    pick 


192          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

against  the  cabin  and  went  inside.  A  wooden 
chair  stood  by  the  door;  Nectarine  sat  down 
upon  it  weakly  and  looked  out  before  him. 
Away  to  the  eastward  Temple  Mountain  swam 
in  the  pink  sky;  white,  holy,  gleaming  in 
matchless  splendor.  With  the  sunset  light 
streaming  against  it  from  the  west  it  seemed 
to  burn  like  the  face  of  God.  Nectarine  settled 
lower  in  the  chair,  his  bruised  chin  sank  upon 
his  breast  and  his  dark  eyes  turned  about 
under  his  brows  furtively;  for  the  moment  his 
face  was  mantled  with  the  shame  of  Cain. 

As  he  followed  Fox  toward  the  mine  early 
the  next  morning,  he  tried  to  keep  his  eyes 
from  the  mountain.  It  stood  against  the  rose- 
flame  of  the  dawn  a  radiant  presence,  smiling 
with  light  and  seemingly  sentient.  Its  white 
sublimity,  its  ineffable  beauty,  was  like  a  peal 
of  sacred  music ;  in  such  a  presence  how  could 
thoughts  of  murder  live?  He  pushed  a  trem 
bling  hand  across  his  discolored  features;  he 
still  felt  sore  and  stiff  from  the  kicks  and 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     193 

blows  he  had  received.  Involuntarily  his  fists 
knotted  and  he  dropped  his  eyes  to  the  man's 
heels  and  followed  onward. 

When  he  stood  in  the  great,  shallow  excava 
tion,  he  saw  that  the  sluice  ran  southward, 
carrying  the  debris  of  the  wash  into  the  river ; 
that  the  power-pipe  came  down  from  the  north 
west  through  a  high  sag,  bringing  the  water 
from  a  reservoir  a  half-mile  away. 

"  Used  t'  be  a  small  stream,  regular  water 
fall,"  said  Fox;  "  I  dammed  it  an'  made  a 
reservoir  back  on  the  mountain;  have  to  have 
an  extra  heavy  pipe  and  giant  to  handle  it,  th' 
pressure  is  so  great.  It  roots  up  th'  dirt  all 
right  when  I  turn  it  on." 

In  the  excavation  were  acres  of  boulders  in 
girth  from  the  size  of  a  man's  fist  to  half  the 
bulk  of  a  roller-top  desk.  In  many  places  these 
huge  gravel  had  been  arranged  in  ricks  in 
order  to  expose  the  bed-rock,  the  fine  dirt  and 
silt  having  gone  down  into  the  Little  Bear  Paw 
through  the  sluice. 


194          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  Have  t'  break  up  a  good  many  of  the 
boulders  with  nitro  before  we  can  handle  'em," 
commented  Fox.  "  Think  yeh  can  stand  the 
work?  " 

"  Guess  so,"  said  Nectarine,  slowly. 
"  Don't  s'pose  I  can  do  much  at  first,  I'm  so 
lame,  but  I'll  be  all  right  after  while."  In  his 
heart  was  a  whisper  that  he  ought  to  fly  from 
temptation,  but  he  had  no  money  and  here  were 
three  dollars  a  day  and  board.  Besides,  why 
had  he  come  there?  For  what  had  he  tramped 
through  all  these  weary  miles? 

"Well,  I'll  do  th'  heaviest  work  till  y'r 
better;  I'm  purty  husky,  yeh  know,"  broke  in 
the  other,  rolling  the  sleeves  up  his  powerful 
arms.  "  Got  t'  get  busy  while  the  water's 
plenty;  need  'bout  three  men  here.  You  can 
handle  th'  giant,  that's  easy.  Ever  do  it?  " 

"  Yes,  some." 

"  All  right.  I'll  go  up  t'  th'  dam  an'  lift  th' 
gate;  keep  th'  giant  pinted  as  she  is  now,  at 
thet  bank  across  there;  hold  'er  hard  when  th' 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     195 

water  comes  into  'er,  so  she  won't  whirl  with 
yen."  He  hurried  off,  following  a  path  that 
climbed  through  the  slope  to  the  reservoir. 

Nectarine  went  to  the  big  water-cannon  and 
took  his  stand  at  its  breech.  The  hydraulic 
giant  stood  close  to  the  trestle  with  its  nozzle 
pointing  eastward;  the  excavation  extended 
entirely  to  the  trestle,  at  some  points  beneath 
it.  The  railroad  people  had  been  able  to  pur 
chase  from  Fox  only  the  right  to  place  the 
piers  of  the  trestle  on  the  bed-rock,  the  ground 
and  the  gold  of  the  tract  were  not  theirs.  The 
stone  piers,  cemented  to  the  bed-rock,  rose  a 
couple  of  feet  above  the  ground,  above  these 
rose  the  steel  supports  of  the  trestle.  Necta 
rine  wondered  if  the  stream  from  the  giant 
might  have  sufficient  force  to  knock  away  the 
bents  from  the  piers.  Probably  not,  and  yet  — 
He  looked  up  at  the  trestle,  it  seemed  for  the 
moment  to  swim  and  waver  against  the  sky, 
then  suddenly  a  train,  the  Southwestern  Mail, 
burst  out  of  the  cut  on  the  side  of  Blue  Canyon 


196          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

and  wheeled  across  the  long  structure,  trailed 
by  trembling  thunder. 

As  Nectarine  stood  listening  to  the  tram's 
dying  roar,  he  became  conscious  of  Temple 
Mountain  beaming  upon  him  from  the  east, 
dazzling  white  in  the  glow  of  the  risen  sun. 
He  struck  out  with  his  fists  before  him  like  one 
blinded.  How  could  a  man  work  his  will  in 
evil  with  that  majestic  spirit  watching  from  the 
sky?  He  took  the  sticks  of  giant  powder  from 
his  pocket  and,  stepping  back,  secreted  them  in 
a  crevice.  Hardly  had  he  again  fixed  his  hands 
upon  the  breech  of  the  giant,  when  it  hissed 
and  shook  with  a  heaving  throb,  and  a  column 
of  water  shot  from  its  nozzle,  tearing  into  the 
bank  two  hundred  feet  away.  Describing  a 
slight  arch,  the  glittering  column  poured  heav 
ily  against  the  distant  bank,  at  the  point  of 
impact  a  writhing  fountain  of  dirt  and  foam 
and  tossing  stones,  at  the  nozzle  a  whistling 
jet,  emitted  with  such  violence  that  tiny  thim- 
blefuls  of  compressed  air,  emerging  with  the 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     197 

stream,  snapped  in  sudden  expansion  like  pis 
tol-shots.  Nectarine  glanced  at  the  steel  sup 
ports  of  the  trestle.  No;  though  the  stream 
exerted  tons  of  pressure  it  surely  had  not 
power  enough  to  tear  those  iron  beams  away. 
The  railroad  men  would  never  have  tolerated 
such  a  peril.  Yet,  there  were  the  sticks  of 
giant  powder  in  the  crevice  and  nitro-glycerine 
was  used  in  splitting  boulders ! 

Fox  came  down  from  the  reservoir,  and, 
after  Nectarine  had  received  some  instructions, 
the  work  proceeded.  At  intervals,  trains  went 
roaring  overhead  and  in  the  afternoon  the  488 
rumbled  across  the  trestle,  going  eastward 
with  a  string  of  loads.  Steve  Fox,  leaning 
from  the  cab  window,  waved  his  hand  to  his 
brother,  working  among  the  boulders  in  the 
excavation,  the  next  moment  his  glance  fell 
upon  Nectarine  at  the  breech  of  the  hydraulic 
giant.  The  engineer's  smile  faded  into  a 
frown,  and  as  the  train  passed  into  Blue  Can 
yon,  Nectarine  saw  Pelt  Hughes  in  the  en- 


198          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

gine's  gangway,  shaking  a  shovel  toward  him. 
The  place  and  the  hour  grew  black  to  Necta 
rine. 

The  following  evening  as  the  483  rushed 
across  the  trestle  going  westward,  a  bit  of 
paper,  clutched  in  a  split  stick,  fluttered  down 
from  the  engineer  to  Thomas  Fox.  The  big 
miner  read  it,  looked  at  Nectarine  a  moment, 
then  thrust  the  paper  in  his  pocket.  That 
night  as  Nectarine  arose  to  go  to  his  bunk  the 
"  boss  "  said  dryly: 

"  Steve  owns  an  interest  in  th'  mine  an7  he 
says  you  must  go.  Seems  yeh  had  somethin' 
t'  do  with  his  engine  durin'  th'  strike.  I  need 
yeh  an'  hate  t'  fire  yeh,  but  I  reckon  y'd  best 
quit  Saturday  night.  Steve  says  he'll  try  an' 
bring  me  a  couple  of  men  over  from  Paley 
Fork." 

Nectarine  said  "  all  right  "  quietly,  but  his 
face  flushed,  his  eyes  gave  off  a  red-green 
gleam,  and  a  stone,  at  which  he  swallowed 
painfully,  seemed  to  crowd  upward  into  his 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     199 

throat.  In  his  bunk  he  lay  awake  half  the 
night  staring  at  the  dark.  On  the  morrow  at 
two  o'clock,  or  in  the  evening  of  the  day  fol 
lowing,  the  world  would  hear  of  an  accident 
at  Blue  Basin  trestle.  He  promised  his  soul 
that.  But  in  promising  he  had  not  reckoned 
with  the  Mountain;  the  blackness  of  hate  and 
the  blackness  of  night  combined  to  make  crime 
seem  easy;  when  with  bloodshot  eyes  he  faced 
that  mighty  vision  of  beauty  and  purity  in  the 
morning  he  felt  his  purpose  sicken.  All  that 
day  and  through  the  night  that  followed  and 
through  the  next  day,  he  struggled  with  the 
Mountain.  It  seemed  to  grow  loftier  with  the 
progress  of  the  hours,  to  gleam  more  whitely, 
to  look  upon  him  with  mingled  scorn  and  pity. 
By  times  it  seemed  to  stand  wrapped  in 
prayer;  again,  as  the  sun  changed  position,  it 
seemed  to  stretch  upward  infinitely,  singing  to 
God;  again  it  seemed  to  draw  close  and  gaze 
upon  him  with  vast,  clear  eyes,  and  all  about 


200          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

his  head  there  was  whispering  he  could  not 
understand.     He  thought  himself  going  mad. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  that  strange  day 
it  chanced  that  Thomas  Fox  went  down  to 
work  at  the  mouth  of  the  sluice,  where  the 
tailings  were  forming  a  bar  in  the  Little  Bear 
Paw.  The  master  was  invisible  and  Nectarine 
began  to  tremble,  buffeted  between  the  lash  of 
hate  and  the  Mountain's  cry  for  purity.  It  was 
Saturday,  and  the  day's  close  would  witness 
his  expulsion,  the  second  triumph  of  those  who 
had  done  him  such  awful  wrong.  The  train 
piloted  by  his  enemies  was  nearly  due,  he  must 
act  now.  He  looked  toward  the  crevice  where 
the  sticks  of  giant  powder  lay,  toward  a  tiny 
sheet-iron  house  at  the  rear  of  the  excavation, 
in  which  were  tools  and  a  box  containing  gun- 
cotton,  caps,  and  a  can  of  nitro-glycerine,  then 
his  troubled  eyes  wandered  to  the  supports  of 
the  trestle.  But  the  Mountain,  soaring  in  the 
sky  and  shimmering  golden  white,  shouted 
"  No."  The  shout  was  from  within  himself, 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     201 

and  yet  something  seemed  to  flash  from  the 
Mountain  and  burst  inside  his  breast,  compel 
ling  the  cry.  When  the  train  approached  he 
would  turn  the  hurling  stream  from  the  hy 
draulic  against  the  supports ;  at  least  he  would 
do  that ;  he  would  not  quit  the  place  a  whipped 
coward,  remembering  afterwards  that  he  had 
been  too  weak  to  strike  at  the  dogs  who  had 
torn  him.  He  swore  he  would  not  yield,  and 
yet  the  dazzling  spirit  towering  in  heaven  cried 
"  Shame,"  and  he  put  a  hand  to  his  throat 
and  struggled  to  keep  back  the  word. 

After  what  seemed  a  long  time,  whisperings 
and  then  a  murmur  of  sound  began  to  creep 
down  into  the  Basin  from  Blue  Canyon,  then 
presently  echoes  began  to  clap  and  beat  upon 
the  mountain  walls,  and  an  engine's  chime 
bellowed  deep  and  long.  Nectarine's  battered 
mouth  twisted  and  muttered,  and  his  hand 
clutched  and  fidgeted  on  the  giant's  breech. 
His  eyes  turned  toward  the  Mountain  implor 
ingly.  Then,  as  things  happen  in  dreams,  un- 


202          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

looked  for  and  without  apparent  reason  or 
cause,  came  tragedy,  the  strangest  that  ever 
fell  in  all  that  mountain  region. 

Directly  north  of  the  trestle  a  steep  slope 
swept  upward  hundreds  of  feet,  crowned  with 
a  ruin  of  stones  like  a  shattered  castle.  For 
centuries  those  masses  had  clung  there,  crum 
bling  piecemeal.  As  the  engine's  chime  bel 
lowed  at  the  mouth  of  Blue  Canyon  a  frag 
ment  of  stone,  half  the  size  of  a  cabin,  broke 
from  the  splintered  crag  and  rushed  down  the 
acclivity.  Poised  as  upon  a  thread,  perhaps 
the  vibrations  of  the  engine's  chime  itself 
loosened  the  great  rock  to  its  fall. 

A  veritable  wheel  of  death  it  came  down  the 
steep,  wreathed  in  thunder  and  dashing  in 
pieces  everything  in  its  path.  With  a  crash 
that  echoed  through  the  mountains,  it  struck 
the  trestle,  carrying  away  one  of  the  posts  of 
a  bent  as  if  it  had  been  no  more  than  a  parlor 
match,  and,  bounding  across  the  sluice,  swept 
down  through  the  long  excavation  into  the 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     203 

river.  With  the  blow  the  trestle  lurched  and 
sagged,  and  Nectarine,  with  a  yell  of  terror, 
let  go  the  giant,  which  whirled  on  its  socket, 
knocking  him  down.  Drenched  and  half- 
stunned,  he  scrambled  to  his  feet.  Back  on 
the  trestle  there  was  a  noise  of  wild  yelling, 
and  the  crunch  and  jar  of  engine-drivers  whirl 
ing  in  reverse;  then,  as  with  the  next  breath, 
the  488  leaped  sidewise  from  the  edge  of  the 
sagging  track,  rupturing  one  of  the  rails. 

Black,  ugly,  prodigious,  with  her  cranks 
flailing  and  all  her  wheels  spinning,  she  rushed 
downward  through  the  air  and  smote  the  earth 
with  indescribable  clamor.  Thomas  Fox,  down 
by  the  river,  heard  and  felt  the  thunder  of  her 
fall  as  if  some  one  had  struck  him.  Nectarine 
staggered  back  with  his  fingers  in  his  hair  and 
stared  an  instant,  blank  as  ashes. 

As  the  engine  tipped  from  the  track  Pelt 
Hughes  jumped  over  the  tail  of  the  tender. 
Nectarine  now  saw  him  hanging  at  the  point 
of  rupture,  his  body  and  head  thrown  back- 


204          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ward,  his  legs  wedged  between  the  tangled  ties. 
The  luckless  fireman  stared  down  from  the 
trestle  upon  the  wrecked  engine  and  Stephen 
Fox,  pinioned  in  the  ruin  below.  Nectarine's 
heart  had  not  made  a  half-dozen  throbs  before 
a  caboose  rolled  slowly  to  the  point  where  the 
track  began  to  sink ;  then  something  shouted  to 
him,  the  Mountain,  the  sky,  his  soul,  he  knew 
not  what,  but  he  leaped  to  the  giant  in  obedi 
ence  and  the  next  instant  the  great,  glittering 
rope  of  water  flung  itself  through  the  air  and 
met  the  front  of  the  car  at  the  edge  of  the 
incline. 

For  a  moment  the  smashing,  powerful 
stream  and  the  downward  pushing  car  seemed 
to  grapple  and  toss,  then  the  car  stopped, 
wavering  toward  its  fall  yet  held  back  by  the 
steady,  battering  push  of  the  column  of  water. 
Nectarine  had  seen  that  liquid  avalanche  stir 
boulders  that  weighed  tons,  and  now,  with 
wide,  intent  eyes  and  teeth  clinched,  he  held 
it  steadily  against  the  menace  wavering  in  the 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     205 

air.  Below  the  car,  directly  in  its  path,  hung 
Pelt  Hughes;  still  below,  in  the  wreck  of  the 
488,  lay  Stephen  Fox,  jammed  and  wounded 
and  staring  in  terror  at  the  wheeled  thing,  that, 
but  for  the  stream,  must  leap  down  upon  him. 

Thus  Nectarine  held  in  his  hand  the  lives  of 
his  enemies;  he  had  but  to  turn  the  stream 
aside  to  end  them.  About  his  head  he  again 
heard  that  strange  whispering,  he  heard 
Thomas  Fox  panting  by  him,  and  a  voice  like 
rattling  tin  say,  "  Hold  'er  steady,  boy,  for 
God's  sake,  hold  'er  steady!  "  He  heard 
Stephen  Fox  groaning  and  imploring,  he  heard 
Pelt  Hughes 's  voice  calling  in  agony,  he  heard 
his  own  blood  pounding  in  his  ears,  but  he  saw 
nothing  save  the  wavering  car  and  the  hurling 
stream  bursting  upward  over  its  front  end,  the 
sunlit  top  of  Temple  Mountain  smiling  to  him 
through  the  upflung  spray. 

Presently  he  was  conscious  that  there  were 
men  in  the  spray  that  fell  down  about  the  car 
on  the  trestle;  he  saw  their  bent  backs  heav- 


206          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ing;  he  saw  the  car  moving  back  along  the 
gentle  slope  of  track  inch  by  inch  until  it 
stopped  and  settled  on  the  level  rails,  then  he 
turned  the  stream  away  and  let  it  plow  and 
plunge  in  the  excavation.  He  tried  to  hold  the 
giant  straight,  but  had  not  the  strength.  Upon 
everything  there  came  a  cast  of  strangeness 
and  unreality.  The  air  was  full  of  red  crys 
tals,  the  stream  from  the  nozzle  seemed  roar 
ing  flame.  Temple  Mountain  lengthened  up 
ward  and  swayed  like  a  dazzling  plume,  then, 
as  if  by  the  rending  of  a  veil,  everything  was 
natural  and  clear.  Thomas  Fox  was  dragging 
his  brother  out  of  the  wreck,  and  Jack  Nevins, 
conductor,  was  creeping  down  the  track  with 
his  hand  reaching  after  Hughes.  Nectarine 
turned  the  giant's  muzzle  downward,  drove  a 
block  under  the  breech  and  walked  unsteadily 
over  to  the  engine.  Stephen  Fox  lay  upon  the 
ground,  his  legs  broken.  He  looked  up  to 
Nectarine's  discolored  face,  then  pushed  out  a 
quivering,  blackened  hand.  Nectarine  took  it. 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     207 

"  Forgive  me,"  the  engineer  panted,  "  I 
didn't  know  the  kind  of  a  feller  you  was." 
Nectarine  nodded.  With  eyes  a-swim  he  looked 
at  Temple  Mountain  and  could  not  speak. 

A  half -hour  later  Pelt  Hughes  held  Necta 
rine's  hand  with  the  grip  of  one  whose  debt  is 
life  itself.  "  As  long  as  I  live  you  can  figger 
on  me  for  help,  and  as  a  friend,"  he  blurted. 
"  Before  long  y'r  likely  to  hold  down  a  better 
job  on  this  road  than  either  Steve  or  me.  You 
won't  have  to  be  'nitiated  to  get  a  working 
card  from  the  union  either." 

Nectarine  turned  to  Nevins.  "  How  did  you 
come  t'  have  no  train  and  the  caboose  cut  loose 
from  the  engine?  "  he  asked. 

"  We  had  a  string  of  empty  ore  cars  for  the 
Fuller  mine;  set  'em  in  there  and  was  run 
ning  down  to  Manzano  light,"  said  Nevins. 
"  I  was  smoking  up  in  the  cupola  of  the  ca 
boose,  my  three  brakemen  lollin'  on  the  cush 
ions  of  the  seats  below.  I  was  looking  ahead, 
and  just  as  we  came  out  of  the  cut  here  I  saw 


208          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

that  boulder  shoot  out  from  under  the  trestle, 
and  one  leg  of  a  bent  go  with  it.  I  yelled  and 
tumbled  down  through  the  car  and  out  on  to  the 
front  platform.  Steve  had  seen  the  boulder 
fall  and  threw  the  reverse  over  and  plugged 
the  engine.  As  the  coupling  buckled  I  jerked 
out  the  pin  and  set  the  brake,  but  it  wasn't 
quite  in  time  to  save  the  car.  We  four  men 
scrambled  off  at  the  rear  as  she  started  down 
the  sag.  What  you  did,  son,  was  about  the 
limit  for  nerve  and  speed.  The  High  Jints 
will  sure  have  you  over  to  headquarters." 

Three  hours  later  the  wreckers  were  at  work 
in  Blue  Basin,  and  Thomas  Fox  had  gone  to 
Paley  Fork  hospital  with  the  special  that  bore 
the  injured  engineer.  The  miner  returned  the 
next  morning.  "  Th'  superintendent  told  me 
t'  send  yeh  over  t'  see  him,"  he  said  to  Necta 
rine.  "  If  yeh  want  t'  come  back  here,  all 
right;  whatever  Steve  an'  me  have  got  y'r 
welcome  to  share.  Yeh  can  consider  y'rself 
one  of  us." 


THE    MOUNTAIN'S    VOICE     209 

Nectarine  looked  at  Temple  Mountain,  glim 
mering  ivory  white  through  the  gathering 
dusk,  and  said:  "  Well,  I'll  go  over  an*  see 
him,  but  I  think  I'll  come  back." 

He  did  come  back,  but  not  until  he  had  sat 
down  to  a  great  dinner  with  Burke  and  Presi 
dent  Sanborn  and  a  fine  concourse  of  Western 
Central  employees,  at  the  Lyon  House,  and 
amid  enthusiastic  acclaim  had  received  the 
Diamond  Key.  When  Nectarine  sat  again  with 
Thomas  Fox  in  the  cabin  in  Blue  Basin  he 
told  the  miner  about  it. 

"  They  made  speeches  an'  praised  me  an' 
pinned  this  gold  key  on  me,"  he  said.  "  An' 
I  was  flustered  and  that  dazed  I  couldn't  eat 
nor  hardly  understand  what  it  was  all  about. 
But  some  way  I  felt  good,  I  don't  know  hardly 
why.  One  man,  I  guess  he  was  the  president 
of  the  road,  said  I  ought  t'  go  t'  school  awhile, 
then  come  into  one  of  th'  departments  an'  grow 
up  in  th'  business;  said  they'd  give  me  a  good 
show.  Another  man,  Burke  was  his  name,  said 


210          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

they'd  help  me  with  my  expenses  if  I  wanted 
t'  go  t'  school,  but  I  thought  I'd  come  back  and 
see  you  first." 

11  We  will  attend  t'  the  school  expenses  for 
yeh,  Steve  and  me  will,"  said  Fox.  "  We  owe 
it  to  yeh.  We  will  give  yeh  a  tenth  interest  in 
th'  mine,  then  yeh  can  go  t'  school  on  your  own 
money,  workin'  here  durin'  your  holidays  and 
attendin'  school  th'  balance  of  the  time  till  yeh 
are  ready  t'  go  t'  railroadin'  or  keep  on 
diggin'  gold,  just  t'  suit  yourself." 

Nectarine  looked  at  Temple  Mountain  and 
his  lip  trembled  while  something  that  looked 
like  dew  slipped  down  his  cheeks.  "  I  didn't 
understand  before,  but  seems  like  it  pays  awful 
well  to  do  right,"  he  said.  "I'll  sure  do  my 
best  after  this." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    CAPTUKE    OF   BEAUMONT 

WE  in  the  despatcher's  office  at  Paley 
Fork  were  perhaps  the  most  skeptical. 
The  nnreckonable  "  gall  "  of  the  threat  made 
us  laugh  at  first,  a  disdainful  cachinnation 
which  eventually  gave  way  to  rage  and  fears. 
But,  really,  who  could  be  expected  to  contem 
plate  with  seriousness  a  "  hold  up  "  of  an 
entire  railroad  by  a  single  individual?  The 
robbery  of  a  train  by  an  organized  band  of 
men  was  quite  within  the  pale  of  the  possible, 
though  in  the  two  cases  where  this  had  been 
attempted  on  our  line  it  had  failed.  But  this, 
surely,  this  last  was  living  opera-bouffe! 

President  Sanborn,  at  the  general  offices  in 
Denver,  had  received  the  first  written  intima- 

211 


212          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

tion,  an  obviously  disguised  scrawl  which 
stated  succinctly  and  with  lawless  scorn  of 
courtesy  that  his  blankety  blank  railroad  had 
been  "  seized  "  and  would  be  held  until  a  ran 
som  of  $50,000  should  be  paid  in  hand  to  the 
bold  and  stormy-souled  "  seizor."  This 
rather  regal  fee,  which  was  to  be  paid  for 
immunity  from  divers  forms  and  degrees  of 
threatened  violence  emanating  from  said 
"  seizor,"  was  to  be  left  by  the  track  at  the 
base  of  a  certain  notable  cleavage  of  stone, 
four  miles  east  of  the  Sandrill  River,  in  the 
Cradle,  Eange. 

The  assurance  that  the  money  had  been  left 
at  the  point  designated  should  be  a  white  flag 
fastened  to  the  headlight  of  a  certain  engine 
drawing  a  certain  train  on  a  stated  date;  it 
was  also  stated  that  the  "  seizor  r  would 
thwart  any  attempt  to  capture  him  at  the  speci 
fied  time  and  place,  by  the  employment  of  an 
agent  at  present  unknown  to  science,  but  of 
unexampled  scope  and  destructiveness.  The 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    213 

lives  of  officials  and  employees,  this  astound 
ing  epistle  claimed,  would  not  be  taken  unless 
necessary,  but  the  president  was  assured  that 
the  road,  in  the  event  of  the  ransom  being 
withheld,  would  be  damaged  far  beyond  the 
amount  of  money  demanded,  and  the  loss  of 
traffic,  by  reason  of  injuries  inflicted,  would 
soon  outweigh  the  sum  conceived  by  the  writer 
to  be  useful  to  his  well-being  and  happiness. 
The  signature  at  the  end  of  the  letter  was 
euphonious,  but  conceivably  not  the  writer's 
real  name.  It  was  "  Banks  Beaumont.'7 

President  Sanborn  sent  the  letter  down  to 
Ames  Burke,  who  was  then  division  superin 
tendent  with  his  office  at  Paley  Fork.  After 
Burke  had  pondered  it  a  moment  he  got  up 
from  his  desk  in  the  alcove  room,  and,  with 
an  expression  of  mingled  mirth  and  apprehen 
sion,  came  out  into  the  big  room  where  the 
tables  and  chattering  instruments  of  the  des- 
patchers  were.  He  handed  the  letter  to  Chief 
Manvell,  who  read  it  and  passed  it  around. 


214          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

After  it  had  been  read  we  looked  at  each  other 
and  broke  out  laughing.  Burke 's  face  was  the 
first  to  straighten  into  lines  of  seriousness. 
He  walked  over  to  the  window  and  stood  with 
his  hands  on  his  hips  looking  out  into  the 
yards,  watching,  yet  not  consciously,  two  squat 
bulldog  engines  bucking  the  long  lines  of  cars 
into  trains  ready  for  despatching.  Manvell 
spilled  some  Durham  into  the  bowl  of  his 
meerschaum  and  tamped  it  unconsciously  with 
his  thumb.  He  also  stopped  laughing  and 
looked  at  the  unlit  pipe  mistily.  Burke  came 
back  and  stood  by  the  chief's  desk,  absently 
twiddling  his  watch-fob  in  his  fingers.  His 
strong  mouth  drew  down  in  his  beard  oddly 
at  the  corners. 

"  After  all,  the  fool  might,"  he  half-sighed. 

"  Might,"  assented  Manvell.  He  struck  a 
match  on  the  sole  of  his  shoe  and  laid  the  pipe 
down  on  the  desk;  the  flame  of  the  match 
burned  his  fingers  and  he  threw  it  down. 

"  If  the  fellow  really  means  it  and  has  a 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    215 

mind  to  use  '  nitro  '  he  might  do  a  great  deal 
of  damage  before  we  could  nail  him,"  he  went 
on.  "  Looks  like  a  bluff,  though,  but  if 
not — "  he  lapsed  into  silence,  staring  a 
moment  at  the  clicking  sounder  on  his  desk. 
"  Sanborn,  of  course,  won't  give  up  anything 
in  answer  to  the  threat?  ' 

"  Certainly  not;  he  considers  it  a  bluff, " 
said  Burke,  and  went  into  the  alcove  room. 

66  Where  did  the  letter  come  from?  what 
point?  "  Manvell  called  after  him. 

"  Dropped  into  a  mail-car  at  Summit,  over 
on  the  Range,"  replied  the  superintendent. 

But  the  lapse  of  ten  days'  time  proved  that 
the  threat  was  not  humor  nor  a  fanciful  ab 
erration,  but  the  forerunner  of  a  pestilence  of 
disasters.  On  the  eleventh  day  after  the  re 
ceipt  of  the  letter  by  President  Sanborn,  as 
the  "  seizor  '  of  the  Western  Central  had 
promised,  the  campaign  of  terror  began.  Tun 
nel  No.  2,  on  the  east  side  of  the  summit  of 
the  Cradle  Eange,  was  dynamited,  blocking  it 


216          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

for  two  days  with  debris ;  five  days  afterward 
the  track  was  blown  up  on  a  dangerous  curve 
twenty  miles  southwest  of  Denver,  smashing 
up  a  freight;  a  week  later  the  bridge  over  a 
creek  emptying  into  the  Sandrill  near  Silver 
Mountain  was  thrown  off  its  abutments  by 
some  powerful  explosive.  After  each  one  of 
the  traffic-delaying  attacks  the  head  of  the  road 
in  Denver  received  a  scrawled  epistle  signed 
"  Beaumont, "  saying  that  whenever  the  ran 
som  was  forthcoming  the  dove  of  peace  would 
perch  upon  the  rails  of  the  Western  Central 
and  the  hearts  of  the  road's  officials.  Other 
wise,  the  obtrusive  supervision  of  the  line  by 
the  "  seizor  "  would  quicken  in  attention  and 
shattering  virulence  until  the  road  became  a 
trafficless  cow-trail.  Each  one  of  these  notes 
had  been  dropped  into  the  letter-slot  of  a 
night  mail  at  some  point  on  the  East  End ;  one 
of  them  had  come  from  Paley  Fork  itself. 

On  all  the  lines  of  the  Western  Central  there 
then  came  a  fever.     It  rose  in  temperature 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    217 

from  normal  blood  heat  to  the  boiling  point 
and  remained  there.  The  road's  small  detec 
tive  force  was  augmented  by  numerous  private 
officers;  the  track- walkers  were  supplied  with 
repeating  rifles  and  instructed  in  methods  of 
vigilance;  a  protecting  engine,  manned  with 
armed  guards,  was  sent  over  the  East  End 
nightly;  watches  were  set  at  all  important 
bridges.  Nevertheless,  a  week  later  the  pro 
tective  engine  itself  was  blown  up  by  running 
over  a  sack  of  dynamite,  half-way  up  the 
Eange  from  the  Sandrill,  and  Sanborn  re 
ceived  a  letter  from  the  ubiquitous  Mr.  Beau 
mont  stating  that,  if  the  company  didn't  soon 
"  give  down  its  milk,"  bridge  No.  18,  over 
the  Muley  Kiver,  forty  miles  west  of  Paley 
Fork,  would  be  dynamited,  and,  following  that, 
the  twenty-eight  miles  of  snow-sheds  on  Muley 
Pass  would  be  set  on  fire. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  picture  the  condition 
of  the  invisible  mental  side  of  this  visible 
materialism  that  stretched  its  winding  steel 


218          THE   DIAMOND   KEY 

across  Colorado  and  down  into  Arizona.  The 
Western  Central's  official  mind  approached 
dementia.  The  board  of  directors  gathered 
and  for  one  hot  hour  debated  if  it  really  would 
not  be  wisdom's  part  to  purchase  a  quiet  state 
of  mind  for  themselves  and  a  disarming  plen 
itude  of  things  for  the  zealous  ' i  seizor. ' ' 
However,  Sanborn  and  Burke,  who  were  pres 
ent,  and  "  Yellow  "  Logan,  the  big  blond  man 
from  the  K.  P.,  who  had  done  some  very  mas 
terful  things  while  the  road  was  being  con 
structed  and  was  now  general  roadmaster, 
stepped  crushingly  upon  this  brewing  coward 
ice. 

They  would  consent  to  no  penny  of  ransom 
being  paid;  they  would  see  that  this  bland 
dynamiter  was  caught  and  made  a  human 
pepper-box  by  the  aid  of  perforating  lead,  or, 
at  least,  landed  in  the  penitentiary.  As  a  re 
sultant  of  this  spinal  stiffening  being  injected, 
and  in  view  of  the  extreme  gravity  of  the  situ 
ation  and  the  debasing  effrontery  of  the 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    219 

"  seizor,"  the  board  voted  a  reward  of  $5,000 
for  the  capture  of  the  marauder.  Aside  from 
a  very  natural  hunger  to  abate  the  supreme 
plague  from  which  we  were  suffering,  we  all, 
also  naturally,  felt  more  vital  of  appetite  for 
the  "  seizor's  "  undoing  in  prospect  of  this 
pretty  bunch  of  money.  The  road's  fever  pal 
pably  increased.  The  odd  thing,  however,  was 
that  in  the  end  an  old  ramshackle  engine  and 
a  slender  girl  captured  Mr.  Beaumont  and  the 
lucre.  The  story  is  a  classic  on  the  Central. 
Just  where  lay  Mr.  Beaumont's  individual 
residence  was,  of  course,  a  mystery;  his  gen 
eral  habitat  seemed  to  stretch  from  Denver  to 
Muley  Pass,  a  distance  of  some  one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles  along  our  line.  A  heavy 
guard  was  at  once  placed  over  the  bridge  that 
spanned  the  Muley  and  a  long  line  of  walkers 
patrolled  the  sheds  on  the  Pass.  Mr.  Beaumont 
evidently  did  not  find  it  immediately  feasible 
to  disrupt  Bridge  18  or  apply  the  torch  to  the 
snow-sheds,  as  he  had  threatened,  but  within  a 


220          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

few  days  an  explosive  tore  out  a  culvert  near 
the  Muley,  and,  of  all  surprising  things,  a 
switch-engine  in  our  yards  at  Paley  Fork, 
not  a  hundred  feet  from  the  despatcher's 
office,  ran  over  a  package  of  nitro-soaked  gun- 
cotton,  precipitating  a  general  wreck  of  things. 
No  one  had  yet  been  killed  outright,  but  sev 
eral  of  our  men  were  in  the  hospital.  As  might 
be  very  naturally  concluded,  our  passenger 
traffic  evaporated  until  its  volume  could  be 
enumerated  with  something  like  a  cipher.  We 
were  moving  a  little  freight  now  and  then  in 
periods  when  the  "  seizor  "  and  we  were  tak 
ing  breath  between  shocks. 

All  that  was  definitely  known  of  the  physical 
aspect  or  appurtenances  of  Mr.  Beaumont  at 
that  stage  of  the  campaign  was,  that  he  appar 
ently  migrated  by  means  of  an  astonishingly 
able  horse  that  wore  disks  of  rubber  on  its 
feet,  and  that  Mr.  Beaumont  himself  wore 
boots  with  high  heels,  both  of  which  were  worn 
away  somewhat  upon  their  outer  sides  and  a 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    221 

little  "  turned  over."  Burke  dryly  remarked 
to  me  one  day  that  thus  far  he  felt  sure  of 
but  one  thing;  that  if  Mr.  Beaumont  won  the 
$50,000  he  would  buy  a  new  pair  of  high-heeled 
boots.  Proofs  of  the  presence  of  a  horse  with 
curiously  shod  hoofs,  and  a  pair  of  "  run 
over, ' '  but  very  active  boots,  were  found  at  the 
scene  of  several  of  the  explosions,  printed  in 
dirt  or  sand.  Therefore,  these  came  naturally 
to  be  regarded  as  signs  and  belongings  of  Mr. 
Beaumont. 

Of  Mr.  Beaumont  himself  the  numerous  per 
sons  who  were  hunting  him  —  and  incidentally 
the  $5,000  —  never  once  saw  a  hair.  Obviously 
he  was  beautifully  familiar  with  all  the  roads 
and  mountain-trails  of  that  region,  and  it 
looked  as  if  he  might  have  constructed  some 
secret  ones  of  his  own,  possibly  in  the  air. 
Whether  he  lived  in  a  tree  on  the  top  of  a 
mountain  or  dwelt  in  an  unknown  and  unfind- 
able  cavern,  somewhere  in  the  Kange,  was  pure 
conjecture.  For  six  weeks  he  was  a  puzzling 


222          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

myth,  so  far  as  personal  localization  went,  but 
a  most  amazing  and  fearful  reality  as  related 
to  his  "  seizure  "  of  the  railway.  Sanborn's 
white  hair  seemed  to  grow  sparse  upon  his 
domelike  head;  Logan's  yellow  eyes  got  some 
what  the  effect  of  a  mad  dog's,  and  the 
"  groove  of  concentration  "  between  Burke 's 
eyes  deepened  and  elongated  as  the  attacks 
thickened.  Had  the  Western  Central's  long 
line  of  rails  been  living  nerves  they  doubtless 
would  have  been  found  tied  in  twitching  knots 
by  reason  of  worry  and  terror. 

We  in  the  divisional  headquarters  had  spe 
cial  cause  to  "  gray  and  wrinkle  "  as  time 
went  on,  for  Ames  Burke  himself  received  a 
note  from  the  dynamiter  adjuring  him  at  once 
to  influence  a  settlement  or  the  Paley  Fork 
station  would  be  erased.  Yes,  "  erased  "  was 
the  pleasing  term  employed.  It  was  especially 
expressive  to  one  who  now  remembers  it,  who 
sat  there  night  after  night  trying  to  despatch 
trains  with  his  hair  standing  on  end.  To  be 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    223 

sure  we  had  guards  about  the  station,  but  the 
guards  might  fall  asleep  and  the  "  erasure  " 
be  suddenly  accomplished,  or  the  "  seizor  " 
might  be  using  a  flying-machine,  and,  winging 
his  way  above  the  building,  drop  dynamite 
down  the  chimney.  For  these  reasons,  and 
divers  others  equally  as  hideous,  the  one  who 
now  remembers  then  wore  his  hat  solidly 
pulled  down  on  his  head  that  he  might  to  some 
degree  disguise  the  porcupine  tendency  of  his 
cranial  locks. 

However,  that  man  was  not  Tommy  Loomis, 
though  the  latter  despatched  the  trick  from 
4  o  'clock  P.  M.  until  midnight ;  but  it  was 
Tommy  Loomis  ?s  sweetheart  who  captured  the 
"  seizor/7  It  may  be  doubted,  indeed,  if 
Tommy  would  have  figured  at  all  in  this  chron 
icle  but  for  the  "  nerve  "  of  Miss  Euth  Patten, 
telegraph  operator  at  Placer,  and  daughter  of 
Amos  Patten,  station-master  at  that  point. 

Tommy  was  Superintendent  Burke  ?s  nephew 
and  had  "  prospects.7'  He  was  a  son  of  John 


224          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Loomis,  one  time  Senator  and  now  chairman 
of  the  board  of  directors  and  the  largest  owner 
of  the  stock  of  the  Western  Central.  Figured 
by  the  calculus  of  the  probable,  Tommy  was 
destined  to  be  rich,  and  was  estimated  to  reach, 
finally,  no  less  a  position  than  the  presidency 
of  the  road.  The  velvet  hand  of  nepotism, 
however,  had  wisely  been  withheld  from  him; 
he  was  working  his  way  and  learning  the  busi 
ness  from  the  base  up. 

That  he  should  have  fallen  in  love  with  Ruth 
Patten,  a  humble  "  pounder  of  the  brass,"  and 
daughter  of  a  man  who  very  likely  had  not 
four  dollars  beyond  his  small  salary,  was  as 
vinegar  both  to  Burke  and  the  chairman  of 
the  board.  Therefore,  the  "  powers  "  had  dis 
couraged  Tommy,  after  a  fashion  that  was 
rather  surgical  than  hypnotic ;  he  had  been  or 
dered  to  proceed  to  Denver  at  the  end  of  the 
month  and  enter  upon  duties  under  his  father's 
eye.  Some  very  bitter  things  promised  to  be 
ladled  into  Tommy's  cup  did  he  commit  the 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    225 

mistake  of  marriage  with  this  lowly  mountain 
girl.  None  the  less,  Tommy  had  not  the  least 
notion  of  giving  her  up.  Did  the  "  powers  ' 
really  know  Ruth  Patten,  as  he  did,  they  might 
rave ;  but  the  raving  would  be  of  a  sort  barren 
of  anger  and  justly  florid  with  appreciation. 
That  was  Tommy's  conviction. 

As  for  Kuth  Patten,  she  was,  truly,  very 
nice.  Tommy,  when  he  was  with  her,  always 
had  a  sense  as  of  the  presence  of  wild  flowers. 
Her  plain,  clean,  mountain-aired  clothes,  her 
slenderness  and  delicate  pink  coloring,  her  shy, 
sweet  demureness  with  him,  made  him  think 
always  of  some  outdoor  thing  he  had  seen 
somewhere,  probably  wild  roses.  Though 
since  her  fifteenth  year,  she  was  now  nineteen, 
she  had  lived  among  the  tumbled  billows  of  the 
Eange  in  the  little  station  with  her  widower 
father,  she  was  not  without  culture.  She  had 
known  books  and  music  in  Denver  in  the  days 
before  her  father  failed  and  fell  to  the  small 
offices  of  the  station  at  Placer.  More  than  that, 


226          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  girl  had  character  and  courage.  One  who 
chanced  to  catch  the  flash  of  her  splendid  hazel 
eyes  in  certain  moments  might  easily  have 
fancied  her  capable  of  even  greater  bravery 
than  suffering  the  long  silence  of  the  moun 
tains  for  her  father's  sake.  She  was  some 
thing  even  more  than  Tommy  knew. 

Placer  was  a  very  small  place,  eight  miles 
eastward  from  the  Sandrill  bridge,  up  among 
the  tossing  earth  waves  that  weltered  toward 
the  high  backbone  of  the  Range.  Ruth's  firm 
slim  fingers  had  made  the  interior  of  the  sta 
tion  homelike,  from  the  kitchen  to  the  bird-cage 
above  the  telegraph-table  in  the  bay-window. 
Tommy  found  it  an  alluring  spot  to  visit; 
besides,  of  evenings,  the  despatcher's  wire, 
though  not  a  human  heart-string,  thrilled  often 
electrically  between  them  with  that  which 
sprang  from  chords  that  were  tenderly  human. 
Ruth's  father  had  a  gold  "  prospect  "  not  far 
from  Placer,  with  which  he  was  entertaining 
himself  at  times,  finding  in  it  stimulus  for  cer- 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    227 

tain  pleasant  dreams;  hence,  the  girl  was 
frequently  in  entire  charge  of  the  station,  the 
duties  of  which  were  very  light.  In  the  long 
pauses  between  the  passing  of  the  trains  she 
often  went  to  walk,  rambling  fearlessly  about 
the  mountainside.  On  one  of  these  walks  she 
saw  the  "  seizor,"  the  first  glimpse  had  of  him 
by  any  one  since  he  deigned  to  devote  his 
energies  to  the  disruption  of  the  road. 

A  half-mile  below  the  station  lay  a  little 
bridge  across  a  ravine,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
a  mountain  stream,  swiftly  volant  and  singing, 
came  out  of  choking  greenery  and  shot  again 
into  greenery.  Here  Euth  often  rested,  sitting 
in  a  shady  spot  near  the  brink  of  the  ravine, 
and  here  one  sunset  hour  as  she  silently  mused 
she  spied  a  horseman  riding  out  of  the  thicket 
of  verdure  below  her.  He  was  dressed  in 
clothing  of  a  neutral  tint,  wore  a  gray  slouch 
hat,  and  had  a  drooping  black  mustache.  At 
one  ear  he  held  a  contrivance  which  looked  to 
be  a  sort  of  combination  of  tin  pan  and  a  horn. 


228          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

He  seemed  to  be  listening  intently  through  this 
instrument,  and  his  black  eyes  glanced  about 
with  keen  alertness  beneath  the  shading  brim 
of  his  hat.  The  girl  sank  back  flat  upon  the 
earth,  her  heart  leaping.  As  she  lay  there  she 
turned  her  head  so  that  her  gaze  encompassed 
the  upper  portion  of  the  bridge,  and  presently 
she  saw  a  hand  reach  up  through  the  ties  and 
place  a  small  bag  of  something  upon  one  of  the 
rails.  After  the  hand  had  been  withdrawn  she 
lay  motionless  a  long  time.  Finally,  when  the 
smoky  dusk  was  thick,  she  sat  up  and  looked 
about.  The  man  had  come  and  gone,  so  far 
as  she  could  detect,  absolutely  without  noise. 
She  took  the  package  from  the  bridge  very 
gingerly  and  hurried  down  to  the  station. 
Amos  Patten  soon  told  her  what  it  was,  and 
ten  minutes  later,  through  the  wire  and 
Tommy  Loomis,  we  all  had  heard. 

Through  the  next  three  days  and  nights  ef 
fort  and  vigilance  were  doubled.  The  peniten 
tiary  hounds  had  been  brought  to  Paley  Fork 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    229 

several  days  before,  and  these  creatures  of 
clairvoyant  nose  were  now  rushed  to  the  little 
bridge  below  Placer.  But  in  vain;  some  sort 
of  perfume  scattered  by  the  man  seemed  to 
sicken  and  baffle  the  dogs;  to  diffuse  itself  so 
widely  that  the  beasts  were  all  at  sea.  How 
ever,  more  feet  were  now  in  the  mountain 
roads  and  trails  pushing  the  quest.  Sanborn 
and  "  Yellow  "  Logan  and  John  Loomis,  to 
gether  with  over  a  hundred  expert  man-catch 
ers  from  Denver,  were  in  the  region,  working 
like  beavers  with  no  obvious  result  save  weari 
ness. 

However,  something  of  real  import  had  hap 
pened,  an  accident  that  engendered  crisis  had 
fallen.  During  the  night  that  followed  the 
evening  in  which  Euth  Patten  had  looked  upon 
the  face  of  the  "  pestilence/'  he  of  the  droop 
ing  mustache  had  ridden  by  devious  lifted 
mountain  ways  and  burrowing  avenues  toward 
the  west,  intent  upon  still  further  urging  the 
company  to  issue  its  coveted  "  milk  "  by 


230          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

breaking  the  line  west  of  Paley  Fork.  With 
his  horse  proceeding  on  almost  soundless  feet, 
and  himself,  through  the  use  of  his  curious 
audiphone,  in  instant  command  of  the  least 
noise  that  fell  within  the  radius  of  a  half-mile 
or  more,  he  rode  by  at  times,  out  of  the  trav 
eled  ways,  and  permitted  the  searchers  to  pass 
him  by. 

Upon  one  of  these  wily  discursions,  on  a 
mountainside  north  of  Paley  Fork,  the  "  sei- 
zor's  "  grand  campaign  of  terror  suddenly 
jolted  against  discouraging  Chance;  his  horse 
slipped  from  a  dangerous  point,  carrying  him 
crashing  down  a  considerable  precipice  and 
leaving  him  with  a  broken  arm,  a  smashed 
audiphone,  and  a  dead  steed.  Manifestly  he 
was  no  longer  safely  equipped  for  either  self- 
protection  or  successful  furtherance  of  the 
raid.  Mr.  Beaumont  swiftly  conceived  a  notion 
for  doctors  and  a  deep  desire  to  quit  the 
region. 

It  would  hardly  be  worth  while  to  state  that 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    231 

Mr.  Beaumont  was  a  singularly  original, 
dauntless,  and  resourceful  soul;  there  had 
been  evidence  in  plenty  of  this ;  but  he  did  need 
a  fresh  horse,  a  new  audiphone,  and  splints  for 
his  arm.  He  felt  a  natural  desire  to  go  away 
before  he  was  captured,  since  capture  meant 
the  penitentiary  or  something  worse.  His  pro 
cedure  was  characteristic ;  he  did  not  do  things 
as  did  other  men. 

Very  late  in  the  second  night  after  Mr. 
Beaumont  had  experienced  this  private  trag 
edy  he  brought  his  bruised  person  secretly  into 
the  Paley  Fork  yards  in  quest  of  exit.  Now, 
upon  a  spur-track  near  the  roundhouse  stood 
an  ancient  engine,  the  Number  100,  bought 
from  the  K.  P.  when  the  Western  Central  was 
under  construction.  At  the  time  of  her  pur 
chase  she  had  not  been  young;  now  she  was 
hoary,  if  the  term  may  be  permitted,  and  had 
either  to  be  largely  rebuilt  or  cast  to  the  scrap 
pile.  Addicks,  the  master  mechanic,  decided  to 
send  her  to  the  main  shops  at  Denver  that  she 


232          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

might  be  "  killed  or  cured,"  as  the  superin 
tendent  of  motive  power  might  will  when  her 
case  had  been  diagnosed.  Accordingly  he  or 
dered  Dick  Edwards  to  hook  her  on  to  his  en 
gine,  the  484,  and  haul  her  over  the  Range  to  the 
capital.  Dick  was  now  crossing  the  division 
every  twelve  hours,  with  armed  guards,  since 
Phil  Porter  and  the  300  had  been  blown  up,  and 
could  as  well  as  not  pilot  the  old  100. 

Mr.  Beaumont,  crouching  in  shadow  between 
two  box  cars,  chanced  to  hear  the  yard  fore 
man  explain  to  a  switchman  this  order  from 
the  "  M.  M."  To  his  penetrative  wit  the  situ 
ation  made  swift  appeal.  He  crept  stealthily 
to  the  decrepit  engine,  which  had  for  weeks 
known  neither  fire  nor  steam,  and  climbing 
through  the  gangway  into  the  tender,  painfully 
and  carefully  lowered  himself  through  the  in 
take  into  the  water-tank.  The  round  aperture 
through  which  water  was  let  into  the  tank 
closed  with  an  iron  lid,  hinged  on  one  side,  and 
fastening  with  a  spring  snap  on  the  other. 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    233 

Reaching  up  with  the  hand  of  his  uninjured 
arm,  after  his  feet  rested  on  the  bottom,  Mr. 
Beaumont  softly  let  down  the  lid.  It  closed 
with  a  click  of  the  spring  catch,  and  Mr.  Beau 
mont,  bringing  to  bear  the  wildest  possible 
pressure,  could  not  open  it  again.  He  had  im 
prisoned  himself! 

The  "  seizor  "  sat  down  upon  the  bottom  of 
the  tank  in  rare  perplexity,  wondering  how  he 
would  escape  from  the  place  without  discovery 
after  his  arrival  in  Denver.  It  looked  that 
destiny  might  deliver  him  into  the  hands  of 
those  who  wanted  him.  However,  as  respected 
Mr.  Beaumont's  resourcefulness,  he  had  rea 
sons  for  confidence,  one  item  of  several  that 
braced  him  being  no  less  a  fact  than  that  he 
had  very  ingeniously  escaped  from  the  peni 
tentiary  two  months  before.  Still,  the  situa 
tion  was  rather  dispiriting,  especially  to  a  man 
who  had  recently  taken  charge  of,  and  domi 
nated  a  railroad.  Had  Mr.  Beaumont  known 
just  how  he  was  to  find  egress  from  the  black 


234          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

and  musty  hole  he  would  have  felt  doubtless 
a  still  heavier  burden  of  discouragement.  As 
matters  stood,  one  factor,  at  least,  appealed 
comfortingly  to  this  erstwhile  regal  highway 
man,  now  ingloriously  "  bottled  up  "  in  the 
tank:  his  present  lair  was  quite  the  last  place 
on  earth  into  which  any  one  would  look  with 
thought  of  finding  him. 

Just  after  day  had  flowered,  and  it  blos 
somed  wonderfully  there  in  the  mountains, 
Edwards  backed  the  484  down  to  the  inert  and 
silent  100.  The  rusty  draw-bar  of  the  latter 
engine  was  coupled  to  the  tender  of  the  484, 
the  draw-bar  being  supplemented  by  a  heavy 
chain.  The  low-hung,  heavy  old  creature  hav 
ing  thus,  metaphorically,  a  ring  in  her  nose, 
was  led  out  upon  the  main  line.  After  two 
guards  with  rifles  in  hands  had  climbed  into 
the  cab  with  Edwards,  the  latter  opened  the 
throat  of  484  and  the  two  engines  thumped 
their  way  out  through  the  switches  and  rolled 
away  toward  the  Sandrill.  Thirty  minutes 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    235 

later  Nat  Peters,  with  the  505  and  a  coach  in 
which  were  Sanborn,  Logan,  Loomis  pere,  and 
a  dozen  armed  men,  followed  toward  the  east. 

Their  purpose  was  to  conduct  a  search  from 
the  summit  down  the  east  side  of  the  Range, 
Mr.  Beaumont  seemingly  being  utterly  unfind- 
able  on  the  western  slope. 

One  can  scarcely  fancy  what  a  stirring  of  the 
official  pulses  would  have  ensued  had  they 
known  that  the  baffling  Mr.  Beaumont  was 
very  much  in  the  immediate  procession.  As 
for  the  "  seizor  "  himself,  he  crouched  on  the 
floor  of  the  tank,  holding  fast  to  one  of  the 
rods  that  served  to  break  the  sway  and  push 
of  the  water  when  the  machine  was  going  fast 
and  the  tank  was  full.  It  may  reasonably  be 
doubted  if,  shaken  about  in  that  ink-black  hole, 
the  conquest  of  even  an  American  railroad 
served  to  make  blackmail  by  dynamite  seem  to 
him  utterly  satisfying. 

For  the  most  part,  the  484  had  only  to  hold 
back  the  100  on  the  way  from  Paley  Fork  to 


236          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  Sandrill,  the  grade  being  downward.  From 
the  Sandrill,  beginning  to  mount  the  mighty 
steps  that  swung  upward  through  thirty  miles 
toward  the  summit,  the  old  engine  dragged  on 
the  coupling  like  a  dead  leviathan.  At  Bridge 
Station  tank  Edwards  stopped  the  484  for 
water.  The  two  guards  got  down  to  stretch 
their  legs,  and,  as  the  engines  were  again  put 
in  motion,  they  climbed  into  the  100.  One  of 
the  men  took  the  engineer's  seat  in  the  cab,  the 
other  passed  back  into  the  empty  tender  and 
perched  on  the  top  of  the  tank.  The  redoubt 
able  Mr.  Beaumont  heard  the  man  plunk  the 
butt  of  the  gun-stock  down  between  his  knees 
on  the  iron  not  thirty  inches  above  the 
"  seizor's  "  head. 

"  This  is  dandy, "  cried  the  guard  on  the 
tank  to  the  one  in  the  cab.  "  I  can  watch  both 
sides  of  the  right  of  way.  I  feel  myself  near- 
ing  that  five  thou." 

The  man  spoken  to  came  back  and  also 
perched  on  the  tank.  "  I'll  divide  the  mazuma 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    237 

with  you,  Jim,"  he  laughed.  "  This  is  a  good 
p'int  to  see  from  sure.  Besides,  if  Edwards 
runs  the  484  on  to  a  poultice  of  nitro,  laid  on 
the  track  by  that  mysterious  son  of  Satan,  we 
will  be  some  distance  from  the  burst  of  the  pin- 
wheels  and  fixin's." 

Mr.  Beaumont,  sitting  in  the  dark  tank 
beneath  them,  though  longing  sorely  for  a 
mouthful  of  fresh  air  and  the  openness  of 
some  far-away  promontory  by  the  sea,  threw 
his  curved  mustache  awry  with  a  sardonic 
grin. 

Morning  sunlight  was  flooding  down  the 
west  side  of  the  Range  when  the  484  passed 
Placer  Station.  Ruth  Patten,  in  a  pretty  cal 
ico  and  with  a  rose  in  her  hair,  was  out  on  the 
platform.  Each  man  on  the  engines  smiled  and 
took  off  his  hat  to  her.  The  two  on  the  tank, 
sitting  almost  on  Mr.  Beaumont's  head, 
thrilled  with  something  of  the  pride  of  cava 
liers,  riding,  as  they  were,  in  search  of  the 
mighty  mountain  brigand.  Besides,  Ruth's 


238          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

smiling  eyes  were  the  only  ones  that  had  looked 
upon  the  Human  Crux,  the  visage  of  which 
behind  iron  bars  was  worth  $5,000.  They 
bowed  with  emphasis  to  her. 

At  that  moment  Nat  Peters,  with  the  505 
and  the  coach  of  officials  and  deputies,  was 
rounding  Puma  Point,  coming  down  toward  the 
Sandrill.  Chief  Manvell  himself  was  despatch 
ing  on  the  East  End  train-sheet  at  Paley  Fork, 
anxiously  noting  the  movements  of  the  few 
trains  traversing  the  division.  Twenty-two 
minutes  later  the  operator  at  Bonebreak,  seven 
miles  farther  up  the  Range  from  Placer,  re 
ported  engine  484  and  100  as  having  passed 
eastward;  six  minutes  later  he  fairly  jumped 
upon  the  key  and  telegraphed  Manvell. 

"  The  100  has  broken  loose!  She  just  went 
by  here  down  the  grade  like  a  rocket!  "  he 
said. 

Manvell  fell  back  from  the  train-sheet  and 
stared  at  it  for  an  instant  as  if  it  were  on  fire. 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    239 

"  My  God!  "  he  breathed,  then  his  hand  leaped 
to  the  key  and  called  Bridge  Station. 

"  Sanborn's  special?  "  the  dots  and  dashes 
flashed. 

"  Just  gone,"  came  the  reply. 

"  Can  you  signal  them?  " 

"  No,  they  have  crossed  the  bridge  and  are 
out  of  sight." 

Manvell  got  to  his  feet  holding  fast  the 
table.  "  Burke!"  he  said,  hoarsely.  The 
superintendent  came  out  of  the  alcove  room, 
his  brows  knit  in  anger. 

"More  dynamite?"  he  grated;  "who's 
struck  it  now?  " 

"  Don't  know  if  it's  that  or  not;  the  100  is 
loose  and  coming  down  the  mountain;  she  will 
strike  Sanborn  and  the  men  just  below 
Placer!" 

Bunch  Wilson,  who  was  despatching  the 
West  End,  and  the  way  operator,  came  to  the 
chief's  table;  they  had  suddenly  grown  pale. 
Burke  unconsciously  ran  his  sinewy  fingers 


240          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

through  his  hair;  both  his  hands  were  trem 
bling.  Manvell  caught  the  key  again  and  the 
dots  and  dashes  flew.  He  was  wildly  calling 
Euth  Patten  at  Placer  now ;  one  chance  of  sal 
vation  remained.  But  Placer  was  silent,  no 
reply  came  back.  Burke  walked  up  and  down, 
fiercely  striking  his  right  fist  into  his  left  palm 
and  cursing  women  as  employees,  but  Wilson 
and  the  way  man  stood  staring  at  the  chief; 
Manvell  hung  over  the  zipping  key  with  per 
spiration  dripping  from  his  chin,  but  Placer 
made  no  sound;  Euth  Patten  was  in  better 
business. 

Sitting  by  the  telegraph-table  in  the  station, 
sewing  and  thinking  of  Tommy,  that  startling 
announcement  from  Bonebreak  had  roused  her 
suddenly.  She,  too,  like  Manvell,  had  gotten 
to  her  feet  in  consternation.  She  saw  as 
clearly  as  he  the  tragedy  that  was  to  fall.  For 
a  moment  she  stared  blankly,  then  her  big 
hazel  eyes  flamed  with  light.  She  sprang  out 
of  the  little  office  swiftly,  ran  into  the  small 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    241 

freight-room  and  snatched  a  switch  key  from 
the  check-rack.  The  next  moment  she  was  on 
the  platform,  looking  anxiously  about  her. 
Amos  Patten  had  gone  to  his  "  prospect;  ' 
no  one  was  near.  On  the  north  side  of  the 
station  ran  a  complete  siding,  upon  which 
stood  three  box-cars;  on  the  south  side,  paral 
leling  the  main  track,  stretched  a  spur,  some 
three  hundred  feet  in  length.  The  switch  to 
this  spur  lay  some  two  hundred  feet  eastward 
from  the  station.  The  spur-track  itself  could 
not  well  be  made  a  complete  siding,  for  the 
reason  that  its  western  end  abutted  on  air,  the 
earth  breaking  downward  at  that  point  into 
Placer  Canyon. 

Should  she  turn  the  engine  in  on  the  north 
track  or  the  south!  On  the  north  the  flying 
mass  of  iron  must  burst  into  the  box  cars,  on 
the  south  it  would  sweep  away  the  bunting- 
post  and  leap  down  through  pine-trees  and 
mighty  boulders  into  the  gorge  below.  In 
either  case  it  looked  sorry  indeed  for  the  king 


242          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

of  railroad  wreckers,  sealed  in  the  tank  of  the 
doomed  100. 

The  girl  chose  the  spur-track.  It  seemed 
better  to  send  the  old  engine  to  her  final  death 
than  to  crush  good  property  and  endanger  the 
station  itself.  With  parted  lips  and  a  heart 
that  throbbed  wildly,  she  fled  along  the  ties  to 
the  switch.  With  shaking  fingers  she  inserted 
the  key  in  the  lock  and  turned  it,  listening 
toward  the  east.  She  could  hear  nothing  save 
the  clamor  of  her  pulses.  The  time  seemed 
year-long  in  which  she  was  trying  to  throw  the 
shift-rails  over;  indeed,  she  had  tugged  and 
thrown  herself  against  the  lever  of  the  old- 
fashioned  target  switch  through  quite  two 
minutes  before  the  rails  were  over  and  the  pin 
pushed  in.  Through  every  snail-paced  moment 
she  had  seen  in  horrified  fancy  the  avalanche 
of  iron  whirl  by  and  go  down  to  split  a  bloody 
way  through  Sanborn's  special. 

Now,  she  stood  bending  toward  the  east, 
wide-eyed  and  panting,  unconsciously  wringing 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    243 

her  bruised  hands  together  in  an  agony  of  ex 
pectation.  Perhaps  the  runaway  had  climbed 
the  rails  somewhere  and  already  lay  in  ruin 
in  some  gorge !  No !  down  through  the  gnarled 
muscles  of  the  mountain's  bosom  crept  a  flood 
ing  thunder;  it  rose  and  heaved  in  volume 
until  the  air  quivered  and  the  ground  shook. 
Involuntarily  the  girl  drew  back  and  still 
farther  back,  her  slim  shape  bent  forward,  her 
white  face  straining.  With  a  fearful  bursting 
roar  the  rushing  engine  struck  the  switch, 
tipped  and  shot  along  the  spur.  Almost  oppo^- 
site  the  station  the  engine  exploded!  A  tear 
ing,  rending  thunder-burst,  and  the  air  was 
full  of  dust  and  hurtling  iron.  Completely 
gutted,  her  twisted  frame  and  gaping  boiler 
rolled  and  bounded  fifty  feet  away  and  hung 
over  the  edge  of  the  gorge;  her  tender, 
crushed  and  keeling  half-over,  turned  straight 
across  the  track  and  plunged  through  the  plat 
form  into  the  station. 
The  girl  got  up  from  the  ground,  where  she 


244          THE    DIAMOISTD    KEY 

had  dropped  involuntarily  or  been  thrown  by 
concussion,  and  with  no  clear  sense  of  what 
she  was  about,  fled  to  the  station.  She  ran  in 
through  the  door  of  the  little  passenger-room, 
her  thoughts  twisting  in  an  inconsequent  chaos 
of  Tommy  Loomis  and  the  safety  of  the  bird 
that  had  hung  in  the  bay-window.  As  she 
entered  the  door  a  man,  bloody  and  disheveled, 
crept  out  of  the  office  and  got  to  his  feet. 
Gasping  for  breath  and  red-eyed  he  looked  at 
her. 

It  was  Mr.  Beaumont.  He  looked  blackened 
and  battered  as  something  might  that  had 
been  thrown  from  a  catapult.  Mad  to  escape, 
he  fumbled  bunglingly  at  his  belt  where  hung 
a  revolver.  The  girl  had  drawn  back  with  a 
scream  of  terror.  The  next  moment  she 
whipped  a  pistol  from  the  pocket  of  her  gown 
and  leveled  it.  For  days  she  had  carried  that 
little  instrument  for  Mr.  Beaumont.  She  stood 
up  so  straight  she  seemed  to  lean  backward 
and  her  eye  turned  to  amber  fire. 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    245 

"  Drop  it!  Throw  it  over  there  in  the  cor 
ner!  I  know  you!  ':  Her  white  teeth  bit  off 
the  words  sharp  and  clean.  "  That's  right, 
throw  it  on  the  floor;  I'll  take  care  of  it." 

The  man  dropped  the  revolver  on  the  floor 
and  stood  swaying-,  his  red  eyes  dimming  as  he 
stared.  "I'm  hurt,"  he  breathed;  "  let  me  — 
let  me  sit  down." 

The  girl's  face  softened.  "  Best  here  on 
one  of  these  settees,"  she  said.  The  man's 
limbs  wavered  and  doubled  and  he  sank  down 
on  one  of  the  seats,  his  flesh  showing  chalky 
through  the  grime  on  his  face.  "  Water,"  he 
whispered. 

The  young  woman  looked  at  him  steadily  a 
moment.  "  There's  several  men  in  the  hospi 
tal  on  your  account, ' '  she  said,  but  she  brought 
some  water  in  a  tin  cup  from  a  little  tank  in 
the  corner  and  held  it  to  his  lips.  When  the 
man  had  revived  she  stepped  back  and  leveled 
the  pistol  at  his  head.  "  Some  one  will  come 
soon,"  she  said. 


246          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  Yes,"  breathed  the  other's  lips.  "  Thank 
you  for  the  water." 

When  Sanborn's  special  rolled  up  to  the 
station  they  found  her  standing  there,  sway 
ing  a  little  but  holding  the  pistol  level.  Presi 
dent  Sanborn  himself  caught  her  as  she  fell. 

The  484  came  trundling  down  to  Placer  a 
few  minutes  later.  Bounding  a  sharp  curve  on 
a  steep  grade,  the  draw-bar  of  the  old  100  had 
pulled  out.  The  sudden  wrench  had  broken 
the  chain  and  the  ancient  tub  had  fled  down 
the  mountains.  The  cavaliers  on  the  tank  had 
quickly  abandoned  her.  But  the  explosion  of 
the  engine  —  there  we  encountered  a  mystery. 
Old  Addicks,  "  M.  M.,"  and  physician  of  loco 
motives,  offered  the  most  plausible  explana 
tion.  The  throttle  of  the  hoary  antique,  he  said, 
had  jarred  loose,  Eunning  backward  then,  the 
pistons  had  pumped  air  into  her  boiler,  com 
pressing  it  until  probably  the  strain  reached 
five  hundred  pounds  to  the  square  inch.  Un 
able  to  release  the  air  through  her  safety-valve 


CAPTURE    OF    BEAUMONT    247 

rapidly  enough,  the  old  relic  had  finally  been 
rent  in  twain.  We  at  first  fancied  that  the 
amazing  Mr.  Beaumont  had  somehow  blown 
the  engine  up,  but  he  refused  to  add  this  trifle 
to  his  exploits ;  besides,  such  a  feat  on  his  part 
had  been  quite  impossible. 

As  for  Tommy  Loomis  —  he  surely  grew  a 
foot  in  stature  during  the  following  week. 
Burke  himself  kissed  Ruth  when  she  came  over 
to  Paley  Fork,  and  Senator  Loomis  —  well,  he 
said  a  number  of  things  that  turned  the  girl 
rosy;  among  these  he  stated,  with  agreeable 
positiveness  and  his  arm  about  her,  that  she 
must  come  to  Denver  with  Tommy  when  he 
took  his  new  position,  that  Mrs.  Loomis  and  he 
would  anxiously  look  for  her.  They  were  not 
disappointed. 

The  banquet  given  at  the  Lyon  House  to 
Ruth  Patten,  in  the  honors  of  which  Tommy 
Loomis,  as  her  husband,  shared  conspicuously, 
was  one  of  the  great  affairs  of  those  years. 
You  should  have  seen  the  flower  decorations 


248          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

and  heard  the  speeches  and  applause  to  have 
appreciated  it.  Above  all  you  should  have 
seen  Tommy  Loomis  when  Superintendent 
Burke  pinned  the  Diamond  Key  upon  the 
lace  of  Ruth's  corsage.  The  boy  certainly 
looked  that  he  might  burst  with  pride.  Of 
course  the  five  thousand  dollars  reward  for 
the  capture  of  the  bandit  was  given  Euth.  She 
did  a  fine  thing  with  the  money,  too;  she 
helped  her  father  develop  his  mine  at  Placer. 
Ultimately  the  mine  turned  out  famously,  af 
fecting  very  happily  the  fortunes  of  Tommy 
and  Ruth's  father,  the  two  men  whose  happi 
ness  lay  nearest  her  heart. 


CHAPTER   IX 

SAVING   THE   LONG   HOUSE 

IT  happened  during  the  summer,  in  the 
fourth  year  after  the  snow-sheds  were 
completed  on  Muley  Pass.  The  region  ap 
peared  to  be  a  place  for  large  accidents,  —  a 
stage  for  tragedies  and  strange  occurrences. 
The  reader  may  fancy,  if  he  will,  a  building 
one  hundred  and  forty-seven  thousand  feet,  or 
some  twenty-eight  miles,  in  length,  lying  like  a 
stupendous  worm,  crooked  yet  motionless, 
across  the  top  of  a  mountain  range,  six  thou 
sand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Within 
and  through  this  shadowy  passage,  by  day  and 
by  night,  trains  of  gold-bearing  ore,  trains 
loaded  with  man-made  goods,  and  trains  carry 
ing  sleeping  and  waking  humanity,  passed  with 
their  low  and  rumbling  thunder.  In  summer 

249 


250          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  region  rolled  green  and  gray  and  brown 
in  a  heaven  of  warm  white  ether,  while  in 
winter  it  was  as  a  realm  smitten  with  a  white 
death,  snow-heaped,  cold,  and  desolate. 

That  the  officials  of  the  Western  Central 
Eailroad  should  have  been  burdened  with  pecul 
iar  care  respecting  this  house  on  the  moun 
tains  may  be  easily  conceived  when  it  is  stated 
that  the  structure  had  cost  fourteen  dollars  a 
lineal  foot,  or  some  two  million  dollars  alto 
gether.  Fire  was  the  menace  that  always  hung 
over  the  vast  shed.  Both  winter  and  summer, 
being  constructed  of  spruce  beams  and  boards, 
it  stood  in  imminent  danger  of  destruction. 
Sparks  thrown  out  of  locomotive  smoke-stacks 
might  ignite  it,  tramps  traversing  its  endless 
tunnel,  and  cooking  their  meals  or  lighting 
their  pipes,  might  carelessly  give  it  over  to  the 
monster,  telegraph-wires  might  become  crossed 
with  telephone,  electric-light,  or  power  wires, 
and  sting  it  with  a  spark  that  would  sweep  the 
pass  with  flames,  or  lightning  might  strike  and 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE  251 

burn  it;  hence,  ingenuity  and  solicitude  were 
exhausted  in  its  protection. 

Beginning  near  Muley  Point,  a  little  station 
on  the  high  eastern  shoulder  of  the  mountain, 
the  vast  shed  stretched  around  the  slope 
toward  the  west  and  slightly  downward 
through  the  Great  Bend,  then  began  to  ascend 
by  a  long,  twisting  grade  toward  a  monstrous 
dent  in  the  top  of  the  mountain  called  the 
Hopper,  through  which  it  passed  like  a  huge 
welt  left  by  the  blow  of  a  giant  whip,  ending 
where  the  track  began  to  wind  downward  to 
Quartz  Creek,  on  its  way  to  the  head  of  Peace 
Canyon. 

On  that  high  range,  in  winter,  storms  raged 
that  were  deadly  to  all  unprotected  life,  and  at 
times  snow  fell  to  an  incredible  depth.  Heavy 
and  packed,  it  lay  in  the  draws  and  depres 
sions,  sometimes  twenty,  sometimes  thirty, 
sometimes  fifty  feet  deep.  The  roof  and  wall 
boards  and  framework  of  the  shed  were  thick 
and  braced  in  many  ways,  that  the  enormous 


252          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

burden  sometimes  imposed  upon  them  might 
be  safely  borne.  Without  the  Long  House  the 
passage  of  trains  across  the  range  in  winter 
would  have  been,  frequently,  impossible.  In 
summer  the  strange  structure  existed  to  no 
purpose,  save  that  it  continually  beset  the  souls 
of  the  officials  with  direful  fancies,  and  blinded 
the  traveller  to  the  glory  of  one  of  the  most 
beauteous  scenic  visions  anywhere  inviting  the 
eyes  of  men. 

Directly  opposite  the  Great  Bend  and  across 
the  stupendous  gorge  of  the  Muley  River,  a 
little  house  was  erected  on  a  high,  projecting 
peak,  a  spur  of  Forked  Mountain.  From  that 
swimming  height  the  eye,  aided  by  a  field- 
glass,  could  command  a  view  of  nearly  every 
foot  of  the  twenty-eight  miles  of  shed.  From 
the  warm  end  of  May  until  the  middle  of 
November,  by  night  and  by  day,  a  pair  of 
human  eyes  looked  unceasingly  from  a  window 
in  the  little  stone  house,  ever  dwelling  watch 
fully  on  the  curving  miles  of  the  Long  House. 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   253 

On  the  window-sill,  which  was  fashioned  like 
the  top  of  a  table,  swung  a  long  field-glass  on 
a  tripod  and  swivel;  at  the  lookout's  right 
hand  stood  a  telegraph  instrument;  and  on 
the  left  was  a  telephone,  —  these  latter  instru 
ments  being  connected  to  wires  that  wound 
down  the  crag,  swung  across  the  Muley,  and 
climbed  the  side  of  Muley  Mountain  and 
stretched  away  through  the  Hopper  to  a  little 
station  on  the  track  near  the  western  end  of 
the  great  shed.  Thus  by  the  telegraph  or  tele 
phone  the  operator  at  Sag,  the  railway  station, 
might  be  instantly  informed  by  the  watcher  on 
Forked  Mountain  of  the  breaking  out  of  fire 
anywhere  in  the  long  shed,  the  telegraph  being 
available  if  by  chance  the  telephone  should  fail, 
and  vice  versa. 

Through  four  summers  Park  Taylor  and  his 
mother,  the  wife  and  son  of  Price  Taylor, 
who  died  while  station-master  at  Sandrock, 
lived  in  the  house  on  the  crag  and  watched  the 
shed.  Through  five  months  of  the  year  they 


254          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

were  sky  people.  The  crystal  floor  of  heaven 
seemed  so  close  that  they  could  almost  touch 
it,  for  white  clouds  often  drifted  around  the 
peak  below  the  house,  like  mighty,  muffled 
swans  swimming  lazily  in  the  clear  sea  of  ether 
that  spread  about  them;  sometimes  at  night 
a  gray  cloud  passed  by  the  door  so  close  that 
they  could  almost  touch  it,  a  huge  ghost  wan 
dering  among  the  peaks  and  trailing  its  skirts 
of  lace  noiselessly  across  the  cold  boulders; 
sometimes  they  looked  straight  over  the  top 
of  a  rainbow,  a  prismatic  bridge  woven  of 
ethereal  ribbons  and  sunk  in  the  ether  sea 
beneath  them;  and  sometimes  vapors  rolled 
about  them  through  the  mountain  prongs  like 
cataracts  of  black  froth  veined  with  lightning. 
At  night,  when  the  weather  was  fine,  the 
stars  hung  so  large,  so  alive,  and  so  fearfully 
near  that  awe  and  prayer  seemed  more  natural 
than  sleep.  Then  there  was  the  silence!  At 
times  the  Muley,  frothing  through  its  sunken 
groove,  sent  a  faint,  purring  whisper  along  the 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   255 

sky;  at  long  intervals,  when  the  wind  was 
right,  they  vaguely  heard  trains  rumbling  in 
the  Long  House;  and  sometimes  an  eagle  cir 
cled  about  the  peaks  and  screamed,  —  these 
were  almost  the  only  sounds,  save  that  through 
the  Hopper  stretched  a  forest  of  pines  which, 
when  winds  blew,  sent  up  a  ghoulish,  neutral, 
seething  noise,  inexpressibly  lonely  and  sad. 
When  winter  came  and  they  went  down  to  the 
haunts  of  men,  —  to  live  in  their  home  at  Sand- 
rock  that  Park  might  go  to  school,  —  for  a 
time  the  noises  of  even  so  small  a  town  seemed 
jarring  and  boisterous,  and  for  weeks  the 
silence  of  the  sky  clung  to  them  and  made 
them  seem  strange.  Beautiful,  in  many  ways, 
and  wholly  out  of  the  common  as  was  that  life 
among  the  stars  and  clouds,  they  always  went 
back  to  it  with  a  qualm  of  dread,  so  oddly  ex 
acting  was  the  task  and  so  entirely  isolated 
were  they. 

Park,  a  gray-eyed,  strong-limbed,  laughter- 
loving  youth,  watched  during  the  night,  for  the 


256          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

most  part,  while  his  mother  kept  her  eye  at  the 
glass  during  the  day.  She,  too,  was  a  merry 
soul,  but  they  rarely  laughed  while  on  Forked 
Mountain;  the  strain  was  too  great.  To  look 
and  look  and  look  and  never  do  anything,  —  it 
seemed  like  insanity.  At  long  intervals  one  or 
the  other  of  the  pair  broke  out  laughing  im 
moderately,  but  quickly  hushed,  for  laughter, 
too,  somehow  sounded  out  of  place  and  half- 
insane.  Three  times  during  their  four  sum 
mers  on  the  mountain  the  Long  House  broke 
into  flames,  and  for  a  little  space  the  two  were 
swept  with  excitement  as  they  flashed  the 
startling  news  to  Gap,  but  the  "  department  ': 
soon  subdued  the  flames,  and  again  silence  fell 
and  the  long  waiting.  Then,  for  the  mother 
and  son,  one  day  it  all  ended. 

Over  at  Gap,  fifteen  miles  distant,  time  hung 
somewhat  less  heavily.  A  fire-train  and  en 
gine,  with  steam  up  day  and  night,  stood  on  a 
side-track  ready  to  run  at  a  moment's  warn 
ing  to  any  point  in  the  shed  where  a  conflagra- 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   257 

tion  might  be  under  way.  The  fire-train  con 
sisted  of  seven  flat  cars  upon  which  were  built 
big  tanks  capable  of  carrying  collectively  one 
hundred  and  fifty  tons  of  water,  and  a  pres 
sure-engine.  The  train  was  manned  by  eight 
men,  strong,  active  fellows,  who  lay  in  wait 
the  year  round,  watching  for  the  monster. 
Near  Gap  a  spring  gushed  out  of  the  side  of 
the  mountain,  and  there  a  water-tank  was 
erected,  from  which  engines  and  the  fire-train 
got  their  supply.  Between  the  siding  and  the 
main  track  stood  a  small  station-house,  in 
which  Todd  Mercer,  the  day  operator,  and  his 
wife  and  baby  lived.  With  them  lived  Todd's 
nephew,  Sloan  Mercer,  the  night  operator. 
Throughout  each  moment  of  night  and  day  an 
operator  remained  on  duty,  for  once  in  every 
thirty  minutes  a  report  of  the  condition  of  the 
great  shed  came  by  wire  from  the  lonely  look 
outs  on  Forked  Mountain.  An  alarm,  in  the 
event  of  fire,  might  also  arrive  by  telephone 
from  one  or  the  other  of  two  track-walkers 


258          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

who  patrolled  the  Long  House.  But  almost 
inevitably  fire  in  the  shed  at  any  point  must 
cut  the  wires  of  communication  traversing  its 
endless  curves,  hence  the  supreme  need  of 
keeping  the  wires  intact  from  Forked  Moun 
tain  to  Gap,  and  of  the  human  eyes  that  looked 
down  from  the  crag  never  faltering  in  watch 
fulness. 

A  half-mile  west  of  Gap  lay  the  property  of 
the  Fuller  Gold  Mining  Company.  Ordinarily 
this  fact  exercised  no  influence  on  matters  per 
taining  to  the  Long  House,  save  that  trains  of 
the  company's  quartz  went  through  it  on  the 
way  to  the  smelters  at  Denver,  but  with  the 
event  of  which  the  reader  is  to  be  told  the 
mine  had  profoundly  to  do.  The  company  had 
a  private  siding  connecting  with  the  track  of 
the  Western  Central  near  the  mouth  of  the 
mine.  The  mine  itself  was  a  "  drift/'  pierc 
ing  the  mountain  northward,  and  striking  the 
lode  at  a  depth  of  some  three  hundred  feet. 
At  that  point  a  transverse  tunnel  bored  the 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   259 

quartz  east  and  west,  extending  in  the  direc 
tion  of  Gap  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile.  The 
vein  of  water  that  supplied  the  fire-train  broke 
from  the  mountain  in  that  vicinity,  and,  one 
day,  —  the  day  of  the  fourth  fire  in  the  Long 
House,  —  the  spring  ceased  to  flow.  The  pre 
cious  artery  had  been  cut  in  two  by  the  tunnel. 
The  day  was  late  in  August  and  the  region 
was  as  dry  as  flour.  Not  a  drop  of  rain  had 
fallen  for  weeks.  A  strong  wind  from  the 
southwest,  hot  from  the  sand  and  sage-brush 
of  Arizona,  had  sucked  through  the  mountain 
gorges  all  the  afternoon.  At  sundown  the 
peaks  were  tousled  in  a  yellow  foam  of  light 
that  wavered  restlessly,  and,  as  the  shadows 
of  night  fell,  these,  too,  seemed  to  tremble  in 
the  buffeting  wind.  A  fine  dust,  almost  as 
impalpable  as  ether  itself,  was  in  the  air,  the 
sky-blown  siftings  of  a  far-off  Arizona  sand 
storm.  As  Park  sat  down  at  the  lookout  win 
dow  on  Forked  Mountain  he  said  to  his 
mother : 


260          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  The  wind  usually  falls  at  sundown,  but  it 
seems  to  be  rising." 

"  Yes;  it  would  be  a  bad  night  for  a  fire," 
said  Mrs.  Taylor,  looking  across  at  Muley 
Mountain  anxiously. 

Park  looked  at  the  heaped  masses  looming 
and  graying  and  purpling  beyond  the  gorge. 
"  Listen!  "  he  said;  "  hear  the  pines  in  the 
Hopper;  they  sound  like  the  sea,  don't  they?  ' 

' 1  Yes ;  I  heard  the  ocean  once  when  there 
was  a  storm ;  it  sounded  a  good  deal  like  that. ' ' 
She  moved  away  and  began  preparing  sup 
per. 

Toward  evening  John  Berg,  foreman  of  the 
fire-train  over  at  the  Gap,  decided  to  empty 
the  car-tanks  and  charge  them  with  fresh  fluid. 
The  water  of  the  tanks  had  not  been  changed 
for  nearly  two  months  and  had  grown  foul. 
The  train  had  not  run  to  a  fire  for  almost  a 
year;  the  men  were  restless  and  needed  exer 
cise.  Accordingly  the  vent-cocks  were  turned 
along  the  train  and  the  tanks  were  rapidly 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   261 

drained.  When  the  water  was  low  enough  in 
the  tanks  the  men  entered  and  swabbed  the 
floors  and  the  walls.  It  was  growing  dark 
when  the  train  was  backed  up  to  the  big  stand- 
tank  to  be  refilled.  One  of  the  car-tanks  had 
been  charged  when  suddenly  the  pipe  from  the 
stand-tank  ceased  delivering.  Berg  at  once 
mounted  the  ladder  and  peered  down  through 
the  manhole  into  the  mighty  tub.  The  tank 
was  empty!  The  pipe  from  the  spring  reser 
voir  yielded  nothing!  The  foreman's  tanned 
face  was  suddenly  filmed  with  gray,  and  lines 
of  anxiety  leaped  across  his  forehead.  He 
scrambled  to  the  ground  and  hurriedly  climbed 
to  the  spring  reservoir;  it  was  almost  dry! 
The  fountain  was  dead!  His  bearded  mouth 
worked  oddly  and  he  stood  bracing  himself 
against  the  strong  wind  and  staring  down  at 
the  empty  basin  for  a  little  time. 

"  Who  could  have  foreseen?  —  who  would 
have  expected?  —  who  ever  heard  of  a  big 
spring  stopping? — "  he  began,  then  turned 


262          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

and  ran  down  the  slope  and  shouted  the  news 
to  the  crew.  Consternation  reigned. 

"  Slack  ahead/ '  shouted  Berg  to  the  engi 
neer;  "  run  down  to  the  station;  we've  got  to 
report  this  and  get  orders  to  run  to  the  Quartz 
Creek  tank  to  fill." 

They  piled  off  at  the  station  and  crowded 
into  the  office.  Berg  wrote  out  a  message  to 
Superintendent  Burke. 

"  Hold  on/'  said  Sloan  Mercer,  the  night 
operator;  "  let  me  call  Fuller's.  They  must 
have  cut  the  vein  with  the  tunnel;  maybe  you 
can  get  water  there." 

He  called  the  mine  office  by  telephone. 
"  Yes,"  they  said,  "  an  unusual  quantity  of 
water  is  flowing  from  the  drift;  no  doubt  we 
have  cut  the  spring  vein." 

1 '  Most  of  the  fire-train  tanks  are  empty,  — 
been  cleaning  out,  —  any  way  the  tanks  can  be 
filled  there?  "  asked  Sloan. 

"  No,  —  well,  if  you'll  dam  the  flow  near  the 
mouth  of  the  mine,  and  lay  a  line  to  it,  you 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   263 

might  pump  the  water  into  the  tanks  with  the 
pressure-engine,  possibly/'  came  the  reply. 

"  Send  my  message  to  Burke, "  said  Berg; 
"  get  me  an  order  from  the  despatcher  to  run 
to  the  Quartz  Creek  tank.  Tell  them  I'll  stop 
at  Fuller's  Mine  and  see  if  we  can  fill  there. 
If  we  can  I'll  not  use  the  order  to  the  Quartz." 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  impatient 
and  anxious.  Outside  the  wind  roared;  the 
two-million-dollar  house  was  unprotected;  its 
chief  defenders  had  been  caught  napping. 
Sloan  beat  on  the  key.  Presently  he  handed 
out  an  order,  and  the  fire  crew  scrambled 
aboard  the  train  and  started  west. 

At  the  lookout  window,  over  on  his  crag, 
Park  sat  watching  the  looming  bulk  of  Muley 
Mountain,  an  immeasurably  huge  tent  of 
shadow  rising  against  the  west.  Above  the 
mountain  a  streak  of  dirty  yellow  stained  the 
sky  like  a  smear  of  rust,  the  wind  poured  vio 
lently  against  the  seamed  forehead  of  the 
crag,  hissing  and  sobbing,  and  the  pine  forest 


264          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

stretching  through  the  Hopper  roared  like  a 
thousand  softly  beaten  drums.  Park  could  not 
see  the  great  shed  at  any  point,  but  he  knew 
infallibly,  to  a  foot,  where  it  lay.  Inside  the 
Long  House  a  track-walker  was  going  east.  He 
was  five  or  six  miles  distant  from  Muley  Point. 
Another  walker,  moving  westward,  was  some 
three  miles  from  the  centre  of  the  shed. 
An  east-bound  freight-train  had  just  emerged 
from  the  shed  and  had  taken  the  siding  at 
Muley  Point ;  passenger-train  Number  4  met  it 
there,  pulled  by,  and  entered  the  shed;  Berg 
and  his  crew  were  at  Fuller's  Mine.  That  was 
the  situation  when  Park  Taylor  saw  the  fire. 

As  he  sat  listening  to  the  voices  of  the  wind 
and  looking  steadily  at  the  mighty  black  thing 
looming  three  miles  away  across  the  gorge,  he 
heard  a  rumbling  thunder  run  downward 
through  the  noisy  wind  upon  the  left-hand  side 
of  the  lookout  crag  and  dwindle  off  and  cease 
as  if  smothered  in  the  distant  Muley  Eiver.  A 
big  fragment  of  rock,  tottering  toward  the 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   265 

abyss,  had  toppled  under  the  pressure  of  the 
wind,  he  fancied,  and  had  plunged  from  the 
crag  and  found  a  resting-place  at  length  in  the 
bed  of  the  Muley,  a  mile  and  a  half  away.  Now 
and  again,  especially  during  periods  of  atmos 
pheric  unrest,  they  heard  these  noises,  for 
their  mountain,  like  every  other  boastful 
height,  was  bowing,  grain  by  grain  and  boulder 
by  boulder,  to  the  eternal  leveler,  gravitation. 
As  the  sound  ceased  Park  suddenly  leaned 
forward  and  gazed  earnestly  at  the  distant 
cloud  of  darkness;  two-thirds  of  the  way  up 
Muley  Mountain,  just  where  the  long  shed 
wormed  its  way  around  the  Big  Bend,  a  shape 
less,  whitish  object  seemed  to  waver  and  roll 
back  and  forth.  Was  it  smoke?  He  rubbed 
his  eyes  and  looked  again.  His  heart  suddenly 
thumped  in  his  throat;  surely  it  was  smoke! 
He  put  his  eye  to  the  glass  and  turned  it 
quickly  toward  the  Big  Bend.  Almost  as  he 
caught  the  focus  a  gleaming  blade  of  red 
pierced  the  vague  mass  of  gray  that  wavered 


266          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

on  the  mountain's  bosom.  With  a  shout  and 
a  thrill  of  all  his  pulses,  he  caught  the  crank 
of  the  telephone  bell-box  and  whirled  it  round. 
The  bells  were  dead !  He  snatched  the  receiver 
and  put  it  to  his  ear  and  tapped  the  trans 
mitter  tube  with  his  finger-ends;  the  trans 
mitter  diaphragm  was  mute!  He  leaned  over 
to  the  circuit-breaker  of  the  telegraph  and 
jerked  it  open;  there  was  no  current!  His 
hands  went  up  through  his  hair  wildly  as  he 
rose  to  his  feet  with  his  blood  on  fire.  His 
mother  stepped  quickly  to  his  side;  her  lips 
whitened  as  she  saw  his  face. 

"Look!"  he  cried;  "  it's  in  flames!  It's 
burning!  and  we've  got  no  wires!  I  heard  a 
slide  of  stone  or  something  go  down  the  moun 
tain,  —  it  must  have  cut  the  wires !  0  mother, 
—  mother!"  He  was  turning  round  and 
round  helplessly. 

His  mother  tried  both  telephone  and  tele 
graph.  The  instruments  were  as  unresponsive 
as  wood.  She  fixed  her  eye  to  the  long  glass ; 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   267 

flames  were  spurting  up  like  red  water  in  the 
smoke  on  Muley  Mountain.  Park  was  tearing 
something  out  of  a  cupboard  at  the  side  of  the 
room  and  coiling  it  around  his  shoulders.  He 
thrust  a  bright  object  into  his  pocket.  His 
mother  turned  and  looked  at  him.  Her  face 
shone  white,  but  firm,  and  her  lips  moved. 

"  The  break  must  be  found,  my  son,  and 
found  quickly, "  she  said. 

1 1  Yes,  mother ;  I  Ve  got  wire  and  the  pliers ; 
watch  close,  —  maybe  I  can  close  the  break. " 

She  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders  and 
lifted  her  face  and  kissed  him,  and  he  leaped 
out  the  doorway  and  was  gone.  She  had  been 
cooler  than  he,  but  now  she  turned  to  the  table 
and  sank  into  a  chair,  and  shook  from  head  to 
foot.  She  knew  what  it  meant  to  hunt  on  the 
shattered  face  of  Forked  Mountain  in  the 
dark:  death  lay  down  that  way. 

From  the  heart  of  the  youth  plunging 
through  the  wind  and  gloom  all  personal  fear 
died  as  he  crossed  the  threshold;  the  need  of 


268          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

haste  was  so  awful  that  it  seemed  to  shrivel 
every  other  thought  and  consideration.  Away 
across  the  valley  he  caught  glimpses  of  the 
red  destroyer  tangling  in  the  bosom  of  the 
black  heap  of  shadow.  The  wind  would  fan  it 
fearfully.  Already  the  flames  had  probably 
melted  the  telephone  and  telegraph  wires  that 
threaded  the  Long  House.  Sloan  and  the  fire- 
train  crew  would  not  know  until  it  was  too 
late!  Passenger-train  Number  4  must  have 
left  Muley  Point;  would  it  run  into  the  fire 
and  be  wrecked?  He  plunged  downward  reck 
lessly,  stumbling  over  boulders  and  ploughing 
through  yielding  shale.  He  knew  where  the 
wires  led,  —  around  a  heaving  horn  of  the 
crag  toward  the  left,  then  downward  over  a 
great  flight  of  rent  and  tumbled  stone,  then 
along  a  ledge  toward  the  right  and  again 
downward  toward  the  left,  and  still  downward 
and  away  through  a  jumbled  chaos  of  rocks, 
to  leap  finally  over  the  gorge  through  which 
the  Muley  boiled. 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   269 

He  followed  the  falling  course  of  the  line  in 
wild  eagerness.  The  wires,  of  "  number  six  r 
steel,  were  fastened  to  heavy  insulators  on  iron 
rods  that  were  much  like  long  crowbars  set  in 
holes  drilled  in  the  rock.  Here  and  there  he 
could  touch  the  wires,  and  now  and  again  he 
could  see  them  above  him,  vague  threads  out 
lined  against  stars  that  were  yellow  spots  in 
the  wind-swept  sky.  The  wind  took  hold  of 
him,  too,  shaking  him  and  breaking  off  his 
breath  as  with  sudden  blows,  and  leaving  him 
flattened  and  gasping.  He  went  down  the  long 
slide  of  jumbled  slabs  and  hanging  blocks  in 
painful  lunges,  and  literally  fell  upon  the  ledge 
that  crossed  the  face  of  the  crag,  three  hun 
dred  feet  below  the  house.  He  glanced  at  the 
fiery  tousle  over  on  Muley,  scrambled  to  his 
feet,  and  hurried  along  the  broad  shelf,  pant 
ing  and  eager.  The  wires  were  intact  all  along 
the  ledge;  the  rupture  was  somewhere  below. 
He  came  to  the  point  where  the  wires  again 
turned  off  into  darkness  down  the  mountain. 


270          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Here  there  was  a  sheer  fall  of  fifty  or  sixty 
feet.  But  one  mode  of  descent  was  possible; 
he  caught  hold  of  the  lower  wire  where  it 
crossed  the  edge  of  the  ledge  and  shot  down 
ward.  His  hands  burned  as  if  he  were  clutch 
ing  white-hot  coals  as  he  flew  through  space, 
then,  with  a  sudden  crash  of  all  his  senses,  he 
struck  the  iron  post  to  which  the  wires  were 
fastened,  a  hundred  feet  below,  and  dropped 
in  a  heap  among  the  rocks.  He  struggled  to 
his  knees;  the  world  tipped  and  went  round 
him  like  black  water,  while  afar,  lifted  on  an 
immense  billow  of  the  black  water,  danced  and 
fluttered  a  huge  rosette  of  gleaming  ribbons. 
He  got  to  his  feet  waver ingly  and  looked  at  it, 
fascinated  by  its  brightness  and  striving  to 
force  his  stunned  faculties  to  receive  its  mean 
ing.  Beautiful  though  it  was,  he  vaguely  felt 
that  it  was  something  terrible.  A  warm,  wet 
stuff  was  creeping  down  his  face  and  neck;  it 
got  upon  his  lips ;  its  flavor  was  saline,  — 
sweetish.  He  took  hold  of  the  iron  post  and 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE  271 

tried  to  call  to  mind  his  original  intention. 
What  had  he  come  there  to  do  ?  His  face  came 
round  to  the  flaunting  rosette  on  the  distant 
mountain  of  black  water.  Then  suddenly  he 
struck  his  wet  forehead  and  stared  at  it  in 
horror;  his  faculties  seemed  to  break  open 
wide,  and  the  shed,  the  fire,  the  broken  wires, 
Sloan  waiting  by  the  telegraph-table  at  Gap, 
his  mother  pacing  the  floor  of  the  stone  house 
on  the  crag,  Number  4  rumbling  down  the 
long  grade  toward  the  flames  —  all  leaped 
upon  him,  a  cataract  of  things.  He  sprang 
forward  with  a  cry  and  again  went  plunging 
downward  through  the  gloom,  falling  in  deep 
furrows  and  scrambling  over  ragged  heaps  of 
rocks,  sliding  to  right  and  to  left,  hunting  furi 
ously  from  post  to  post  for  the  broken  wires. 

Nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  the  big 
ledge  he  found  the  break,  a  post  cut  clean  away 
by  a  boulder  that  had  crashed  down  the  face 
of  the  crag.  In  wild  haste  he  fell  upon  his 
hands  and  knees  and  began  hunting  among  the 


272          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

stones  for  the  ends  of  the  severed  wires.  His 
breath  came  in  sobs  and  his  battered  hands 
flew  out  before  him,  feeling  everywhere.  He 
glanced  over  at  Muley  Mountain;  the  flames 
looked  to  be  leaping  a  hundred  feet  high  and 
combing  over  eastward  in  the  wind.  Fourteen 
miles  of  the  shed  stretched  away  in  that  direc 
tion;  all  that  part  of  the  Long  House  must 
sink  into  ashes,  involving  a  million-dollar  loss 
and  the  suspension  of  traffic  for  weeks,  if  Berg 
and  his  crew  did  not  soon  arrive!  The  youth 
worked  as  if  he  himself  were  on  fire. 

At  length  his  hand  fell  upon  a  cold  thing, 
the  precious  steel.  With  a  cry  he  wrenched 
the  splicing  wire  from  his  shoulders  and  fas 
tened  an  end  of  it  to  the  broken  wire,  and,  pay 
ing  out  the  splicing  wire  as  he  went,  crept  on 
ward,  searching  feverishly  about  him.  Again 
with  a  thrill  of  joy  his  crooking  fingers  laid 
hold  of  a  wire  end.  He  drew  the  wires  to 
gether,  all  his  body  shaking;  he  clipped  the 
splicing  wire  in  two  with  the  pliers,  and  then 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   273 

paused.  He  did  not  know  whether  he  had  the 
telephone  or  the  telegraph  wire  or  a  part  of 
each;  there  must  be  no  mistake.  He  pressed 
a  wire  end  against  either  side  of  his  tongue. 
There  was  a  needle-like  dart  of  pain,  then  — 
blank.  It  must  be  the  wire  of  the  telephone,  — 
no,  it  was  the  telegraph  wire;  some  one  had 
opened  a  circuit  breaker  and  was  working; 
the  current  came  in  short,  swift  throbs.  His 
mother  could  not  work  the  telegraph;  it  must 
be  Sloan  calling  the  house  on  the  crag!  If  he 
had  but  found  the  ends  of  the  telephone  wire, 
then  his  mother  could  tell  Sloan  of  the  terrible 
situation. 

There  was  one  thing  that  could  be  done, — 
a  chance,  —  he  would  take  the  chance,  for  not 
a  second  must  be  wasted.  If  he  were  not  so 
bruised  and  battered  and  shaken,  and  if  his 
hands  did  not  tremble  so!  He  tried  with  all 
his  soul  to  steady  himself.  He  laid  one  wire 
end  down  upon  a  stone,  and  with  the  other 
"  wrote  "  upon  it  in  Morse  dots  and  dashes 


274          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

by  tapping  one  wire  end  upon  the  other,  break 
ing  and  closing  the  circuit  as  one  does  with 
a  telegraph-key. 

11  The  —  shed  —  is  —  on  — -  fire  —  at  —  Big 
Bend!  "  he  tapped,  slowly,  unevenly,  labori 
ously.  "  Tell  —  Berg  —  fire  —-in  —  shed,  — 
Big  —  Bend!  " 

He  placed  the  wire  ends  against  his  tongue. 
The  current  came  in  little  sharp  spurts,  and 
then  ceased.  Had  Sloan  heard?  Had  he  gone 
to  tell  Berg?  The  youth  on  the  mountainside 
sat  still  a  moment,  staring  at  the  distant  con 
flagration.  The  radiance  of  the  fire  fell  upon 
the  rocks  and  against  his  dripping  face  in  filmy 
quiverings,  and  the  forest  in  the  Hopper 
roared  like  a  cataract.  Could  Sloan  have  read 
a  message  sent  so  bunglingly?  Doubt  smote 
him;  he  began  hunting  for  the  broken  tele 
phone  wire  like  one  half  mad  with  fear. 

Sloan  had  read  the  message.  Sitting  among 
his  instruments  in  the  station  at  Gap,  he  sud- 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE  275 

denly  awoke  to  the  fact  that  all  the  wires  were 
dead.  The  telegraph  sounders  ceased  their 
gabble.  He  plugged  the  board  quickly;  the 
wires  were  open  somewhere  east.  He  tried  the 
shed  telephone;  it  was  dumb.  He  turned  to 
the  Forked  Mountain  wires;  they  were  mute 
as  oysters.  His  scalp  began  to  creep  cold.  The 
private  wire  to  the  Fuller  Mine  alone  was 
alive.  He  called  the  office ;  a  tired  grunt  came 
back. 

"  Is  that  you,  Davis?  "  Sloan  asked. 

"  Sure." 

"  What  you  doing  there  so  late?  " 

"  Sweatin'  my  skull  over  a  trial  balance." 

"  Say,  is  Berg  there?  " 

"Yes;  damming  the  flow  from  the  tunnel 
so  he  can  fill  his  tubs." 

' '  Tell  him  the  wires  are  all  dead,  —  some 
thing  wrong,  —  maybe  fire  in  the  shed.  He'd 
better  get  a  move  on  him." 

"  That  so?    All  right." 

Sloan  went  out  and  looked  toward  the  shed, 


276          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

came  back,  and  began  testing  for  current  and 
walking  to  and  fro;  over  in  the  stone  house 
on  Forked  Mountain  Mrs.  Taylor  went  from 
window  to  window,  white-faced  and  twisting 
her  hands  together;  in  the  Long  House  a 
patrol  came  leisurely  toward  Gap,  unconscious 
of  peril;  and  away  east  of  the  fire  the  second 
walker  strolled  toward  Muley  Point.  He  began 
to  smell  burning  wood  and  faced  about;  the 
odor,  mixed  with  a  thin  vapor,  came  through 
the  long  tunnel  borne  on  a  draught  of  air  that 
sucked  through  the  shed  from  the  west.  He 
instantly  started  westward  on  a  swift  run, 
looking  eagerly  ahead,  —  but  the  fire  was  eight 
or  nine  miles  away. 

Davis,  the  accountant,  stepped  out  of  the 
office  at  the  Fuller  Mine,  after  his  conversation 
with  Sloan,  and  shouted  the  substance  of  the 
operator's  message  over  to  Berg,  where  he  was 
working  with  his  men  near  the  mouth  of  the 
drift. 

"All   right !"  yelled  Berg.     "Here,   Jim, 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE  277 

you  couple  the  train  to  them  three  cars  in 
there  on  the  side-track;  snake  'em  out  and 
kick  'em  back  on  the  main  line  out  of  the  way; 
back  the  tanks  in  on  the  side-track  as  near  to 
the  water  here  as  you  can.  Hurry!  Tell  the 
engineer.  Boys,  be  lively;  Burke '11  can  the 
whole  push  of  us  to-morrow,  I  expect." 

The  fire-train  was  backed  in  on  the  spur  and 
coupled  to  the  three  obstructing  cars,  —  two 
box  cars  and  an  ore  flat,  —  and  the  cars  were 
drawn  out  and  "  kicked  '  westward  on  the 
main  line.  Jim  Harvey,  the  brakeman,  having 
pulled  the  pin  between  the  cars  they  were 
shunting  and  the  fire-train,  threw  the  switch 
for  the  train  to  back  in  again  on  the  spur, 
thinking  he  would  run  to  the  three  cars  on 
the  main  track  and  set  their  brakes  as  soon 
as  the  fire-train  was  in  on  the  siding.  By 
that  course  they  would  save  several  precious 
minutes.  But  just  when  the  train  was  in  upon 
the  spur  and  he  had  closed  the  switch,  Davis 


278         THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

burst  from  the  office  door  with  a  yell  that  swept 
every  heart  with  terror. 

"  Sloan  has  got  a  message  from  Forked 
Mountain, "  he  cried;  "  the  shed  is  on  fire  at 
Big  Bend!  SHE >s  BUKNING  UP !  SHE'S  BURN 
ING  UP!" 

Harvey,  with  a  sudden  thrill  of  consterna 
tion,  dashed  toward  Berg  and  the  men  at  the 
mouth  of  the  mine.  Panic  swept  the  veins  of 
every  man;  shouts,  mingled  oaths  and  orders 
and  counter-orders  cleft  the  night,  heavy  feet 
rushed  here  and  there,  and  away  from  the  con 
fusion,  off  through  the  gloom,  crept  the  two 
box  cars  and  the  ore  flat,  the  wind  at  their 
backs  and  a  falling  track  all  the  way  to  the  Big 
Bend!  Harvey  got  a  glimpse  of  them  as  they 
disappeared,  and,  with  a  swift  vision  of  the 
closing  of  his  career  as  a  Western  Central 
man,  started  in  a  vain  pursuit,  yelling  as  he 
ran.  Davis,  seeing  what  had  befallen,  stopped 
in  his  tracks  and  stood  for  a  moment  with  out- 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   279 

stretched  hands  and  clutched  breath,  uncon 
scious  of  what  he  was  doing. 

"  The  cars  —  the  box  cars,  —  are  loaded 
with  powder,  —  giant  —  blasting !  '  he  burst 
out  and  whirled  around.  "  Berg,  do  you 
hear?  "  he  cried.  "  Our  three  cars  have  gone 
down  the  grade  to  the  fire!  Two  of  'em  are 
loaded  with  powder;  just  got  'em  in  to-day!  " 

That  staggered  the  foreman.  He  stopped  in 
the  midst  of  a  driving  activity  of  mind  and 
body;  his  face  in  the  flare  of  the  lanterns 
looked  elongated  and  gray.  He  lifted  his  arms 
as  if  warding  off  some  falling  object  and  then 
dropped  them. 

"  Cut  off  the  engine  and  the  front  tank-car, 
—  it  has  water,"  he  ordered.  "  We  must 
catch  the  cars  of  powder.  The  passenger  must 
be  comin'  down  towards  the  fire,  —  if  them  cars 
should  go  through  the  fire  and  get  on  fire  as 
they  went  and  then  strike  Number  4!  Hurry, 
boys;  don't  lose  a  second!  Part  of  you  stay 
here  and  see  if  you  can't  fill  the  tanks  in  some 


280          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

way.  Let  her  go,  Steve ;  plug  the  escape,  and 
don't  shut  off  for  anything!  " 

In  three  minutes  they  battered  out  through 
the  switch  and  whirled  down  toward  Gap. 
Sloan  had  seen  the  three  runaway  cars  whiz 
by  and  was  out  on  the  platform.  The  engine 
and  tank-car  went  by  him  in  a  sweeping  roar. 
He  heard  a  voice  shouting  something  to  him 
from  the  midst  of  the  noise,  but  could  not  dis 
tinguish  a  word.  He  ran  to  the  office;  the 
Forked  Mountain  telephone-bell  rang,  and 
Mrs.  Taylor  cried  some  strange  things  in  his 
ear,  —  the  Long  House  was  burning  madly, 
Park  was  somewhere  in  the  darkness  on  the 
face  of  the  mountain,  she  did  not  know  where, 
but  clearly  he  had  found  and  mended  the 
broken  wires.  In  turn  Sloan  told  of  the  dis 
jointed  condition  of  the  whole  system  of  de 
fence,  and  she  leaned  from  the  lookout  window 
and  stared  at  the  rocking  tangle  of  flames  on 
the  opposite  height  with  fresh  terror. 

Berg  and  his  men  went  toward  the  scene  of 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   281 

conflagration  with  desire  and  expectation  at 
white  heat.  Through  the  first  half-dozen  miles 
the  engine  was  driven  recklessly.  The  endless 
shed  roared,  the  headlight  gushed  it  full  of 
light  in  front,  the  myriad  dusty  beams  and  raf 
ters  glimmered  backward  into  darkness,  and 
the  bottomless  hole  rushed  upon  them  cease 
lessly.  Every  man's  face  looked  long  and  dis 
torted.  The  cars  of  powder  had  nearly  five 
minutes'  start  of  them;  could  they  overtake 
and  bring  to  a  standstill  those  unbridled  rams 
of  destruction?  Could  they  hook  into  and  hold 
cars  that  were  probably  running  forty  or  fifty 
miles  an  hour!  But  few  words  were  spoken. 
Steve  Burns,  the  engineer,  sat  with  one  hand 
on  the  emergency  lever  and  the  other  on  the 
throttle,  peering  ahead,  his  brows  drawn  into 
a  knot.  Berg  hung  half-way  out  the  fireman's 
window,  staring  into  the  yawning  hole  in  front. 
When  within  four  or  five  miles  of  the  centre 
of  the  Big  Bend  he  gave  a  yell. 
"  There  they  are,  Steve  I  Open  her  wider!  " 


282          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

lie  shouted.  Burns  hooked  her  up  another 
notch,  but  it  was  only  a  glimpse  they  got  of  the 
runaways;  like  shadows  the  cars  slipped  out 
of  sight  around  a  curve.  At  the  end  of 
another  mile  they  again  saw  the  fleeing  things, 
vaguely,  away  in  front.  Burns  reversed  the 
lever.  Berg  leaped  at  him. 

"  What  are  you  doin',  Steve  I  "  he  de 
manded. 

"We  can't  hook  'em,"  said  Burns;  "if 
we  could  we  couldn't  stop  'em  here  on  the 
grade  until  we  all  went  head  first  into  the  fire, 
—  an'  t'  be  wrecked  in  a  fire  with  that  powder, 


Berg  crumpled  his  soiled  hands  together  and 
pushed  them  across  his  sweat-beaded  face. 
"Number  4,  —  if  they  —  if  they—"  He 
swallowed  painfully  and  looked  strainingly 
ahead. 

Passenger  Number  4  exploded  torpedoes 
that  the  walker  had  placed  on  the  rails, 
stopped,  and  then  advanced.  It  picked  up  the 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   283 

patrol  and  pushed  carefully  ahead,  but  its  crew 
knew  nothing  of  the  cars  of  powder.  If  the 
runaways  should  hold  to  the  rails  and  run 
through  the  fire  the  walls  of  the  Long  House 
would  be  spattered  with  something  more  scar 
let  than  flame.  Berg  and  Burns  were  feeling 
their  way  onward;  up  at  Fuller's  Mine  the 
men  were  working  wildly  in  an  attempt  to  fill 
the  tanks;  over  on  the  crag  Mrs.  Taylor  was 
praying  in  a  transport  of  anxiety;  and  down 
on  the  front  of  the  mountain  Park,  bruised  and 
bleeding,  was  creeping  upward  when  the  ex 
plosion  came.  He  was  hanging  among  the 
rocks  and  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  Muley 
Mountain  when  suddenly  he  saw  the  whole  con 
flagration  leap,  apparently,  into  the  sky,  while 
a  crash  of  sound  went  abroad  that  shook  the 
heavens  and  rocked  the  mountains,  and  he  felt 
himself  flattened  in  among  the  stones  as  from 
a  great  blow.  Up  in  the  stone  house  Mrs.  Tay 
lor  heard  the  walls  crack  and  leaped  back  with 
a  scream  as  the  window-glass  rattled  about 


284          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

her.  They  looked  at  Muley  Mountain,  —  the 
fire  had  been  blown  out  as  one  blows  out  a 
candle!  Stars  of  flame  winked  here  and  there 
on  the  mountain,  and  a  gray  vapor  drifted 
above  it.  That  was  all. 

When  Berg  and  the  passenger  crew  met  at 
the  scene  of  the  explosion,  they  found  that 
some  seven  hundred  feet  of  the  shed  had  dis 
appeared  and  that  some  two  hundred  feet  of 
rails  and  ties  had  gone  with  it.  Bits  of  the 
cars  were  found  at  distant  spots  on  the  moun 
tain.  The  fire  which  had  hungrily  begun  the 
destruction  of  the  Long  House  had  been  put 
out  by  fire  with  a  breath  behind  it  that  blew 
itself  and  all  around  it  into  blackness. 

After  all  hands  had  been  over  "  on  the  big 
rug  "  at  headquarters,  Burke  said  to  Chief 
Despatcher  Manvell,  "  It  seems  that  that  chap, 
Mrs.  Taylor's  son,  did  the  real  business.  What 
do  you  think?  " 

"  Strikes  me  that  way,"  said  the  chief. 

"  Seems  like  a  good  emergency  man;   guess 


SAVING  THE  LONG  HOUSE   285 

we'd  better  put  him  on  with  the  linemen,  and, 
when  he's  a  little  older,  —  if  he  pans  out  all 
right,  —  we  can  push  him  to  the  first  place. 
He  and  his  mother  mustn't  go  up  on  that  old 
rock-pile  again." 

"  I'll  look  after  them,"  assented  Manvell. 

Three  years  later  Park  Taylor  became  gen 
eral  foreman  of  linemen,  and  this  story  of  his 
grit  on  the  face  of  Forked  Mountain  is  not  the 
only  tale  they  tell  of  him  on  the  Western  Cen 
tral. 

Perhaps  his  advancement  was  due  quite  as 
much  to  the  fact  that  he  wore  a  Diamond  Key, 
presented  him  by  Superintendent  Burke  at 
another  notable  function  at  the  Lyon  House, 
as  to  official  favor,  for,  wearing  that  emblem 
of  heroism  upon  his  breast,  he  was  always  en 
deavoring  to  live  up  to  the  high  standard  it 
indicated.  It  is  praise  sufficient  to  say  that  by 
his  conduct  afterwards  Park  honored  the  Dia 
mond  Key  quite  as  much  as  it  honored  him. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE  PRESIDENT'S  SON 

PRESIDENT  SANBORN  of  the  Western 
Central  was  opposed  to  nepotism.  He 
believed  in  merit  and  experience  in  lieu  of  the 
influences  of  birth,  wealth,  and  "  pull."  The 
sons  of  directors  and  rich  stockholders  found 
his  doctrine  uncomfortable,  so  did  his  boy 
Clark.  When  the  latter  came  home  to  Denver 
from  an  Eastern  school,  and  stated  that  he  had 
made  his  mind  up  unreservedly  to  make  rail 
roading  his  life-work,  the  president  said : 

"  Your  choice  pleases  me.  I  suppose  you 
have  in  mind  to  ultimately  occupy  a  seat  at  or 
very  near  the  top?  " 

"  Certainly;   nothing  less,"  Clark  replied. 

"  Then  you  will  have  to  begin  at  the  bottom 

286 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       287 

of  the  class  and  spell  them  all  down,  one  by 
one.  On  the  Central  there  is  no  other  way." 

The  young  man  looked  about  him,  at  the 
mahogany  furniture  of  his  father's  private 
office,  at  the  expensive  rug  beneath  his  feet,  at 
his  sire's  sturdy,  well-groomed  figure.  "  You 
spelled  them  all  down,  I  infer,"  he  remarked, 
a  glint  of  banter  in  his  gray  eyes. 

"  Most  of  them,"  the  president  said,  smil 
ing.  "  Not  on  the  Central,  however.  I  was 
thirty  years  on  the  way,  most  of  the  time  work 
ing  on  other  roads,  in  nearly  every  department 
from  section  foreman  up  to  this  desk.  How 
could  I  wisely  pass  on  the  work  of  others  had 
I  never  done  such  work?  ' 

Clark  reflected  a  moment.  "  Where  would 
you  advise  me  to  begin?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  would  suggest  that  you  go  out  on  the 
line,  out  to  Paley  Fork,  for  instance,  and  be 
come  a  member  of  a  section  gang.  Work  with 
those  men  long  enough,  at  least,  to  learn  ex 
actly  how  a  railroad  track  is  kept  in  order. 


288          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Then  you  ought  to  go  into  the  roundhouse  and 
repair-shops  out  there,  and  find  out  in  a  prac 
tical  way  about  the  construction  of  cars  and 
engines,  then  you  had  better  fire  an  engine  for 
awhile.  By  doing  so  you  will  learn  to  run  a 
locomotive  and  what  sort  of  obstacles  train 
men  have  to  contend  with.  After  that,  if  you 
are  not  discharged  for  insubordination  or  in- 
competency,  you  can  take  up  something  else." 
A  slow  flush  of  something  akin  to  anger 
crept  across  the  son's  handsome  face.  About 
him  in  the  big  modern  building  lay  many  fine 
rooms,  the  treasurer's  department,  the  offices 
of  the  land  department,  the  chief  engineer's 
quarters,  the  richly  appointed  suite  for  the 
directors,  yet,  he  must  go  out  and  dig  dirt 
under  the  hot  sun,  handle  oily  machinery  in  the 
shops,  and,  finally,  pound  coal  and  shovel  it 
into  the  fire-box!  Firing  a  locomotive,  he 
knew,  was  fearful  bodily  toil.  In  truth,  year 
by  year  the  size  and  power  of  locomotives  had 
been  augmented  until  few  men  could  be  found 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       289 

possessed  of  muscle  and  endurance  sufficient  to 
keep  them  in  steam.  To  Clark  it  looked  not 
only  hard,  but  humiliating. 

"  Pater,"  he  said  after  a  moment,  "  you 
have  been  mighty  good  to  me  in  the  past,  and 
I  appreciate  it,  but,  really,  don't  you  think  you 
are  rubbing  it  into  me  now?  " 

"  No.  You  may  not  understand  it  now,  but 
you  will  if  you  ever  become  a  railroad  official. ' ' 

"  I  suppose  you  are  right;  anything  that  is 
really  big  and  of  consequence  has  to  be  strug 
gled  for,  I  fancy." 

"""  Exactly  so,  and  in  the  struggle  one  also 
grows  big  and  of  consequence;  otherwise  one 
couldn't  capture  and  hold  down  the  big  thing 
when  one  got  to  it." 

Clark  laughed.  "All  right,"  he  said,  "I 
think  I  understand  why  you  are  president  of 
the  Central.  I'll  wade  in;  I  don't  believe  you 
will  keep  me  tamping  ties  and  shoveling  coal 
longer  than  seems  necessary." 

The  president's   strong  face   softened  ten- 


290          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

derly.  "  No;  it  would  please  certain  feelings 
of  mine  to  make  life  altogether  easy  for  you, 
but  it  won't  do;  you  have  got  to  meet  the 
tough  things  and  master  them.  I  will  give  you 
a  note  to  Roadmaster  Logan.  Go  out  with 
him ;  he  will  put  you  on  somewhere.  You  will 
draw  regular  wages.  No  money  will  come  to 
you  from  home;  college  days  and  college  lux 
uries  are  over  for  you,  understand.  You  will 
draw  from  one-fifty  to  two  dollars  per  day. 
Earn  it  and  live  on  it ;  that  will  enlighten  you 
about  certain  things  that  may  be  valuable  to 
you  in  the  future.  The  matter  rests  with  you 
to  win  or  lose.  I  don't  expect  to  see  you  show 
the  white  feather. " 

The  tall  boy's  teeth  clenched  and  the  color 
in  his  cheeks  deepened,  but  he  shook  his 
father's  hand  and  said,  "  All  right,  dad,"  and 
went  out. 

The  next  morning  Clark  went  over  the  Range 
to  Paley  Fork  with  Logan,  and  the  following 
day  was  made  a  member  of  a  section  crew  on 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON      291 

the  Middle  Division.  To  the  college-bred 
youth  it  seemed  a  lowly  position  indeed.  His 
hands  lost  their  whiteness  and,  passing  the 
stage  of  blisters,  became  calloused,  the  milky 
scarf-skin  peeled  from  his  face  in  the  sun's 
glare  and  his  flesh  grew  swarthy.  But  he 
found  out  how  to  keep  a  railroad  track  in 
order;  there  no  man  would  ever  be  able  to 
deceive  him.  At  the  end  of  five  months  he 
shifted  his  position  to  the  work-train  on  the 
West  End,  and  began  education  in  fills  and 
excavations,  the  removal  of  earth-slides  and 
how  wrecks  were  swiftly  cleared  from  the 
track.  During  the  winter  he  went  out  again 
and  again  with  a  battery  of  four  engines  and 
a  rotary  and  had  experience  of  war  with  the 
snow  of  the  sky-grades.  Early  spring  found 
him  in  the  shops  at  Paley  Fork,  garbed  in 
overalls  and  working  among  swinging  cranes, 
snarling  lathes  and  the  crash  of  steam-ham 
mers.  November  found  him  on  a  night-shift 
in  the  roundhouse,  dumping  engine-grates  over 


292          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ash-pits,  filling  sand-tanks,  and  wiping  steel 
and  brass.  By  June  of  the  fallowing  spring 
lie  was  hostler,  bringing  out  engines  to  the 
main  track  for  departing  trains  and  taking 
engines  into  the  house  from  arriving  trains. 

Naturally  the  story  of  the  "  nerve  "  of  the 
president's  son  went  the  length  of  the  Central. 
Between  father  and  son  there  was  a  curious 
reticence.  Not  once  did  President  Sanborn 
urge  the  boy  to  come  home  to  the  luxuries  of 
the  big  house  on  Capitol  Hill.  "  Whenever 
you  are  tired  of  the  fight,  you  will  be  welcome 
here,"  was  the  fashion  in  which  he  ended  most 
of  his  letters  to  Clark,  who  was  wont  to  rejoin 
with  something  like :  ' i  Your  invitation  sounds 
good,  but  I'm  not  at  present  trotting  with  the 
silk  stockings ;  too  busy. ' '  Once  at  the  end  of 
a  note  to  his  father  he  added  a  line  which  read : 
"  P.  S.  You  haven't  noticed  any  white  feath 
ers  yet,  have  you?  "  But  he  had  the  courage 
and  decency  to  strike  that  out. 

In  August  of  the  second  year  he  informed 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       293 

Master  Mechanic  Addicks  that  he  would  like  a 
job  of  firing.  The  M.  M.  tried  to  dissuade  him. 
*"  Let  it  alone,  boy;  pass  it  up.  The  work  is 
back-breaking,  racking,  infernal/'  he  said. 
' i  You  are  not  going  to  follow  firing  or  be  an  en 
gineer.  I  know  your  father  too  well  for  that. ' ' 

"  The  pater  said  fire  and  fire  it  will  be.  I'm 
not  going  to  sprout  any  white  feathers  at  this 
stage  of  the  game,"  was  the  grim  reply. 

The  M.  M.  looked  at  the  young  fellow  ad 
miringly.  "  The  old  block  and  the  chip  are 
of  a  piece,  that's  plain.  Still,  it  looks  like  non 
sense  to  me.  I'll  let  you  know  about  it  soon," 
he  said. 

At  that  time  telegrams  and  letters  of  an 
epoch-making  character  were  passing  between 
postal  authorities  and  railroad  officials,  dated 
from  Washington,  D.  C.,  Chicago,  Denver,  and 
Los  Angeles.  The  thing  in  ferment  was  whether 
or  not  a  certain  volume  of  mail  could  be 
given  quicker  transit  between  Southern  Califor 
nia  points  and  the  cities  of  the  East  by  way  of 


294          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  Western  Central  than  by  means  of  the 
longer  route  through  the  plains  country  to  the 
southward.  From  Manzano,  a  point  on  a  trans 
continental  line  in  Eastern  Arizona,  across  the 
mountains  northeastward  to  Denver,  three 
hundred  miles  of  mountain  road  as  against 
five  hundred  of  "  sage-brush  track,"  that  was 
the  proposition.  Six  hours  from  Manzano  to 
Denver  would  nail  the  contract.  Fifty  miles 
an  hour  and  mountains  galore!  It  had  a 
daunting  look.  All  along  the  line  the  tone  of 
comment  was  protestation.  Still,  when  San- 
born  and  Superintendent  Burke  and  Chief  Des- 
patcher  Manvell  had  drawn  the  schedule  for 
the  flyers,  every  man  on  the  Central  felt  his 
blood  quicken  and  his  pride  expand.  But  one 
outcome  was  to  be  admitted,  the  line  must  win. 
On  the  eighteenth  of  August  everything  was 
ready  for  the  test.  Out  through  the  switches 
at  Manzano  at  7.24  A.  M.  the  great  1300  burst 
with  three  heavily  laden  mail-cars  behind 
her,  bound  for  far-off  Denver.  Instantly  the 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       295 

trial  was  on,  the  test  was  set.  The  whole  line 
seemed  to  strain  taut  with  excitement.  Train 
orders  flashed  to  and  fro  on  the  wires,  keeping 
the  track  clear  for  the  racer,  every  man  on  the 
Central,  metaphorically,  held  his  watch  on  the 
flyer,  mentally  ' '  pulling  for  her. ' ' 

Up  the  long  valley  of  the  Big  Bear  Paw  the 
1300  thundered,  whirled  across  Ball  Bridge  and 
chased  the  echoes  up  the  winding  canyon  of  the 
Little  Bear  Paw,  and  onward  over  the  Saddle 
Bow  Bange  and  down  into  Peace  Valley. 
There,  at  Three  Plumes,  engine  1010  was  wait 
ing,  and  being  quickly  hooked  to  the  train, 
rushed  onward,  twenty-two  minutes  late. 
Through  Peace  Valley,  whizzing  through  Bon 
net  and  around  the  Great  Horseshoe  and  up 
over  the  Muley  Pass,  roaring  through  twenty- 
eight  miles  of  snow-sheds,  the  1010  came. 

Onward  she  flew,  snapping  the  mail-cars 
around  the  curves  and  downward  from  the 
Pass,  and  still  onward,  tearing  in  through  the 
switches  at  Paley  Fork,  but,  alas,  thirty-eight 


296          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

minutes  behind  the  schedule !  Half  the  popula 
tion  of  the  division  station  was  on  the  depot 
platform,  among  them  Superintendent  Burke 
and  Chief  Manvell.  The  engineer  and  fireman 
of  the  1010  descended  to  the  platform  grimy 
and  staggering  with  weariness.  Though  they 
had  worked  like  fiends,  sixteen  minutes  had 
been  added  to  the  time  lost  by  the  1300  on  the 
West  End. 

The  1010  was  instantly  cut  loose  and  sent 
toward  the  house,  and  a  big  Baldwin  engine, 
the  1206,  backed  in  and  was  snapped  fast  to 
the  mail-cars.  Dick  Munson,  reputed  to  have 
no  knowledge  of  fear,  sat  at  the  throttle;  on 
the  fuel-deck,  with  hat  off  and  sleeves  rolled  to 
the  shoulders,  stood  Dan  Madden,  one  of  the 
Central's  crack  firemen;  on  the  fireman's  seat, 
with  his  hand  on  the  bell-rope,  sat  Clark  San- 
born.  The  M.  M.  had  said  to  him  that  morn 
ing: 

"  When  you  bring  the  1206  out  to-day  you 
better  stay  on  her  and  make  the  trip  to  Denver. 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       297 

I  want  you  to  watch  Dan  Madden  work.  Maybe 
when  you've  seen  what  firing  a  passenger 
mogul  is  really  like  you'll  be  satisfied  to  pass  up 
the  job.  Besides,  Madden  may  need  help." 

Clark  laughingly  assented.  "  All  right,  Mr. 
Addicks,"  he  said,  "  I  think  I'll  enjoy  the  ride. 
I  wouldn't  object  to  getting  a  glimpse  of  my 
good  gray  dad,  provided  I  don't  have  to  go  to 
Denver  in  a  Pullman  and  wearing  a  '  biled 
shirt.'  " 

Addicks  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  and 
growled  good-naturedly:  "  Don't  worry,  boy, 
you  will  have  dust  and  grease  enough  on  you 
this  trip  before  you  hit  headquarters." 

To  Clark  nothing  particularly  new  was  prom 
ised  by  the  trip,  save  that  a  fight  against  time 
was  to  be  waged  through  something  more  than 
a  hundred  miles,  half  of  which  was  mountains. 
The  gauge  of  the  1206  showed  a  steam  pressure 
of  nearly  two  hundred  pounds  to  the  square 
inch,  and  a  blue-white  plume  jetted  from  her 
safety  exhaust  as  the  air  coupling  was  made. 


298          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Panting  for  the  race,  she  stood  a  beautiful 
monster,  one  hundred  and  eighty  thousand 
pounds  of  tested  steel,  with  a  tender  attached 
to  her  that  held  six  thousand  gallons  of  water 
and  ten  tons  of  coal.  Manvell  and  Burke  and 
Addicks  drew  quickly  toward  the  gangway,  the 
face  of  each  man  grave  with  anxiety.  Munson 
saw  their  lips  moving,  but  could  not  hear  what 
they  said  for  the  hissing  steam,  but  Clark  heard 
and  shouted  across  to  him: 

66  They  say,  '  Give  her  the  whip,  go  into 
Denver  on  schedule  if  possible,  but  look  out 
that  she  don't  get  away  from  you  on  the  east 
side  of  the  Cradle  Kange.'  " 

Munson 's  gaunt  face  lit  up  with  a  smile ;  he 
touched  the  sand  lever  and  opened  the  throttle. 
Like  lightning  the  fiery  gas  straining  in  the 
engine 's  boiler  shot  through  her  throat  into  the 
cylinders  and  her  great  drivers  spun  on  the 
rails.  Back  in  the  mail-cars  Conductor  Dirken 
and  the  clerks  were  all  but  thrown  from  their 
feet.  For  an  instant  it  seemed  that  the  draw- 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       299 

heads  might  be  jerked  from  their  sockets,  but 
the  next  moment  the  train  was  rushing  out 
through  the  switches  in  a  clamor  as  of  many 
shattering  things.  Clark,  looking  back  from 
the  fireman's  window,  waved  his  cap  to  the 
crowd  on  the  platform.  Munson  never  turned 
his  head;  his  face  changed  to  something  like 
gray  iron. 

There  was  a  long  stretch  down  a  valley  and 
around  the  base  of  Silver  Mountain  before  en 
countering  the  Sandrill  Eiver  and  the  Cradle 
Eange.  Here  were  some  thirty  miles  of  slightly 
falling  track  ere  the  towering  barrier  of  the 
Range  would  interpose  its  bulk.  Here  and 
beyond  the  Range  time  must  be  made.  Munson 
centred  his  attention  on  the  cut-off  and  throttle, 
giving  her  a  little  shorter  stroke  and  a  little 
more  steam  with  each  thousand  feet  traversed 
until  the  exhausts  blent  into  a  solid  roar.  With 
the  flight  of  four  or  five  minutes  they  were  cut 
ting  through  the  air  at  a  sixty-mile  pace,  at  the 
-end  of  ten  minutes  the  speed  had  increased  to 


300          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

seventy,  at  least.  The  three  cars  of  mail  seemed 
no  more  than  steadying  ballast  for  the  hurling 
mass  of  steel  at  the  front.  Majestically  she 
rolled  on  her  springs,  each  driver  beneath  her 
a  spinning  vortex  of  shadowy  things.  By  times 
her  Crosby  chime-whistles  sent  out  a  long- 
drawn,  melodious  blare,  as  if  she  were  calling 
triumphantly  to  mountains  and  tempests  and 
earth's  grandest  embodiments  of  power. 

Down  on  the  fuel-deck  Madden  swayed  back 
and  forth  between  the  coal  pile  and  the  furnace 
door.  Already  sweat  was  trickling  down  the 
fireman's  sinewy  neck.  From  the  window-seat 
Clark  looked  down  upon  the  swaying  figure.  It 
was  glorious  to  sit  there  at  ease,  hearing  the 
wind  scream  in  one's  ears  and  seeing  the  dis 
tances  taken  in  gulps  by  the  flying  engine,  but 
to  get  down  in  front  of  the  hot  boiler-head  and 
toil  —  well,  no  doubt  old  Addicks's  apprecia 
tion  of  the  task  was  correct.  But  how  about 
one's  duty?  and  how  about  the  white  feather? 
Clark  set  his  teeth  grimly,  remembering  what 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       301 

the  "  old  man  "  had  said.  It  was  well  for  the 
first  run  of  the  Central's  Fast  Mail  that  Pur 
pose  in  the  young  fellow's  breast  remained  as 
granite,  for  even  while  he  was  weighing  the 
question  a  momentous  thing  happened.  Mad 
den  struck  the  pick  into  a  block  of  coal  and 
there  burst  out  a  flash  of  flame  and  a  crash  of 
sound.  The  fireman  bounced  back  against  the 
boiler-head  and  fell  in  a  quivering  heap,  some 
thing  like  a  knife  ripped  across  the  back  of 
Clark's  neck,  Munson  sank  forward  with  a  cry, 
the  glass  of  both  cab-windows  burst  outward 
and  the  place  was  wreathed  in  blinding  dust. 

Something  in  the  block  of  coal,  doubtless  a 
bit  of  giant  powder,  damp  and  unexploded 
when  the  coal  was  mined,  had  been  pierced  and 
ignited  by  the  point  of  the  iron  pick.  Such 
explosions  have  occurred  before,  sometimes  in 
the  furnace  of  an  engine,  bringing  dire  results. 
With  the  crash  of  the  explosion  Clark  leaped 
down  on  the  fuel-deck,  both  hands  at  the  back 
of  his  neck,  his  face  awry  with  pain.  The  next 


302          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

moment  he  caught  Madden  in  his  arms  and 
lifted  him,  terror  in  his  eyes. 

"  Dan!  "  he  cried,  "  Dan  —  are  you  hurt? 
How  bad  is  it?  " 

The  fireman  groped  about  with  his  hands, 
gasping  and  struggling.  Munson  writhed  back 
ward,  twisting  his  body  until  his  face  was 
toward  them.  A  ring  of  pallor  shone  about 
the  engineer's  drawn  lips  and  his  eyes  looked 
glassy  and  strange.  He  was  feeling  blindly  for 
the  throttle-lever.  Madden  reached  a  hand 
toward  him,  his  fingers  working,  his  features 
distorted  in  fierce  protest. 

"  Don't  shut  her  off,  Dick,"  he  shouted, 
"don't  —  don't  reverse  her!  We  will  lose 
time !  I'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute,  —  in  —  just 
a  —  minute !  '  He  tried  to  get  to  his  feet,  but 
one  of  his  legs  doubled  under  him  like  a  limb 
of  putty.  "  My  right  leg  —  it's  broke!  "  he 
gasped,  looking  fearfully  into  Clark's  face  as 
he  clung  about  the  young  fellow's  shoulders. 

As  they  held  together,  swaying  with  the  dip 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON      303 

and  roll  of  the  rushing  engine,  Clark  spoke  near 
the  fireman's  ear:  "  I'm  hurt,  too,  Dan,  but  not 
bad;  just  a  scratch,  I  think.  I'll  do  the  firing; 
I'll  try  my  best  to  keep  her  hot.  We  will  have 
to  stop  and  get  you  into  one  of  the  mail-cars 
so  you  can  lie  down.  It  won't  do  for  you  to 
stay  in  here." 

Munson  was  staring  at  them.  Suddenly  his 
eyes  cleared.  "  What  is  it  —  what  happened?  " 
he  shouted. 

Clark  swayed  toward  him,  clenching  Mad- 
den's  body  about  the  waist.  "  Explosion  in  the 
coal,"  he  shouted  in  return.  "  Dan's  got  a 
broken  leg.  I'll  fire  her  now." 

Munson  threw  on  the  air,  clanged  the  reverse 
over  and  twisted  himself  painfully  from  his 
seat.  "  Something  knocked  the  breath  and 
sense  out  of  me,"  he  said,  "  but  I  guess  I'm 
all  right."  He  scanned  Clark's  face  hesitat 
ingly.  "  Do  you  think  you  can  keep  her  hot?  ' 
he  asked. 

"  Certainly,"   said  the   big  youth,   angrily. 


304          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  If  you  can  keep  her  open  and  she  stays  on 
the  rails  we  will  go  in  on  schedule.  If  neces 
sary,  wedge  the  safety.  We  must  win  this 
fight.77  Something  that  had  made  his  father 
president  of  the  road  was  speaking  in  the 
boy. 

"  Good,77  said  Munson.  "  For  a  minute  I 
thought  sure  we  was  whipped.77  As  with  men 
in  battle,  each  thought  first  of  the  outcome  of 
the  struggle.  Munson  took  hold  of  Madden. 
"  Let  him  lie  down,77  he  said  to  Clark.  As  they 
eased  the  fireman  to  a  recumbent  position  his 
lips  twitched. 

"  I  could  do  it,  Dick,  I  could  do  it  if  I  could 
I   stand,77  he  wailed,  and  again,  "  I  could  keep  her 
I    in  steam,  Dick,  I  could  do  it  if  I  could  only 
x   stand  up." 

"  We  will  make  it  or  blow  her  up,  Dan,  don't 
worry,77  said  Munson. 

Five  minutes  later  Madden  was  lying  on  a 
bed  of  empty  mail-sacks  in  one  of  the  cars,  and 
the  men  were  doing  what  they  could  for  him. 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       305 

"  Pile  the  sacks  on  each  side  of  him  so  he 
won't  roll/'  said  Munson.  "  We  will  get  you 
to  a  doctor,  Dan,  as  fast  as  the  wheels  can  turn. 
Hold  fast,  you  fellows  in  here,  when  we  go 
down  the  east  side,  there's  going  to  be  doings. 
Come  on,  son." 

Clark  and  the  engineer  rushed  back  to  the 
1206  and  climbed  into  the  cab.  Munson,  though 
his  features  looked  pinched  as  with  pain,  flung 
himself  upon  his  seat,  threw  the  reverse  back 
and  pushed  the  throttle  open.  The  1206  belched 
out  her  steam  in  crashing  snorts  and  set  off 
like  a  race-horse.  Clark  flung  his  cap  upon  the 
fireman's  seat,  pulled  off  his  shirt  and  threw 
it  into  a  corner  by  the  boiler-head.  Stripped 
to  the  waist,  he  turned  to  the  maul  and  shovel. 
Blood  was  running  down  among  the  white  mus 
cles  of  his  back.  He  pulled  the  furnace  door 
open  and  began  spraying  coal  from  the  shovel 
upon  the  seething  bed  of  fire  within.  Two  hun 
dred  and  seventy-five  tubes  of  fifteen-foot 
length  lay  in  the  boiler  before  him,  two  thou- 


306          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

sand  square  feet  of  surface  to  be  heated.  The 
big  fire-box  breathed  upon  by  the  fierce  draught, 
roared  hoarsely  as  it  devoured  the  coal,  each 
time  the  door  swung  open  a  scorching  blast  of 
heat  burst  out.  Soon  the  president's  son  began 
to  breathe  with  his  lips  parted,  ere  long  his 
body  was  beaded  with  sweat,  his  hair  became 
a  wet  mat  and  his  skin  streaked  and  grimy  with 
dust.  Half  his  strength  went  in  a  continuous 
effort  to  keep  upon  his  feet.  He  began  to  real 
ize  what  it  meant  to  labor  while  standing  upon 
a  swaying,  lurching  surface,  a  floor  that  never 
for  a  moment  ceased  shifting;  to  feel  himself 
burning  with  heat  and  his  brain  and  nerves 
shaken  into  giddiness  by  the  never-ceasing  jar 
of  the  floor  and  the  clangor  and  shock  of  things 
about  him. 

They  went  around  the  long,  curving  base  of 
Silver  Mountain  in  a  cloud  of  rushing  echoes. 
Notch  by  notch  Munson  was  working  the  re 
verse  toward  the  centre  of  the  quadrant,  notch 
by  notch  was  opening  the  throttle,  measuring 


PRESIDENT'S    SON       307 

the  cut-off  to  the  last  nick.  The  whole  compo 
sition  of  the  engine  buzzed  as  she  flew.  Mun- 
son  sat  low,  crumpled  down  upon  himself  like 
a  straining  jockey,  his  cap  pulled  solidly  to  his 
ears,  his  face  drawn  into  hard,  pallid  lines 
under  its  streaks  of  oil  and  soot,  his  eyes,  un 
naturally  bright,  gazing  ahead.  By  times  he 
leaned  back  and  glanced  down  at  the  figure 
swaying  and  toiling  in  the  heat  of  the  boiler- 
head,  then  stared  ahead. 

Down  around  Puma  Point  they  swept,  passed 
the  Queen  Cove  mines  like  a  flash  and  struck 
the  shore  of  the  Sandrill.  On  the  sharp  curves 
Clark  sometimes  lunged  clear  across  the  cab, 
and  back  in  the  rocking  mail-cars  men  grasped 
whatever  stable  thing  they  could  lay  hold  of  to 
keep  themselves  upon  their  feet.  A  half-mile 
down  the  Sandrill  the  1206  literally  leaped  upon 
the  bridge  and  tore  across  in  a  torrent  of  noise, 
then  they  were  rushing  up  the  winding  groove 
that  led  toward  the  summit,  twenty  miles  away. 
At  Bridge  Station  the  conductor  threw  a  book 


308          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

from  the  tail  of  the  train,  in  the  book  was  a 
message  which  read: 

"  PRESIDENT  SANBORN,  Denver:  —  Madden 's 
leg  broken;  your  son  is  firing;  gaining  on  the 
schedule.  DIRKEN." 

When  the  president  had  read  the  telegram 
an  anxious,  tender  expression  softened  his  face. 
He  felt  a  twinge  of  uneasiness  from  the  thought 
that  Dick  Munson  was  at  the  throttle.  To  what 
extreme  Munson  might  carry  the  speed  on  such 
an  occasion  as  this  was  a  disquieting  sur 
mise. 

1  He  ought  to  have  had  a  secondary  engine 
to  help  him  up  the  western  side  of  the  Range," 
thought  the  president.  "  If  we  get  the  contract 
that  must  be  looked  after.  I'll  wire  Burke 
about  it." 

Far  over  on  the  western  side  of  the  Cradle 
Range  much  the  same  thing  was  being  said  by 
Dick  Munson,  save  that  the  words  were  edged 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       309 

with  sulphur.  Through  several  miles,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  long  climb,  the  1206  swept 
along  the  iron  trail  at  high  speed,  superb, 
scorning  the  backward  push  of  the  grades,  then 
almost  imperceptibly  the  glimmering  whirl  of 
the  drivers  slackened,  her  breathing  grew 
louder  and  longer-drawn,  her  gait  fell  from 
sixty  to  fifty,  from  fifty  to  forty,  from  forty  to 
thirty.  Clark  fought  like  a  demon  to  hold  her 
there,  but  gradually  she  slipped  down  to  twenty- 
five.  She  got  no  lower  than  that.  To  and  fro 
she  wove  her  way  toward  the  summit,  swerving 
across  a  slope  here,  wheeling  along  the  verge 
of  an  abyss  there,  drumming  over  dizzy  trestles, 
plunging  through  stifling  tunnels,  always  up 
ward.  Clark's  face  and  body  turned  to  a 
smear  of  sweat  and  oil  and  dust,  across  the 
nape  of  his  neck  the  flesh  lay  open,  down  his 
back  to  his  waist  ran  a  dark  embroidery  of 
blood-soaked  dirt.  By  times  he  shook  the 
grate-lever  to  give  her  better  draught,  again 
he  plunged  the  stirring-rod  into  the  furnace, 


310          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

but  for  the  most  part  he  simply  pounded  coal 
furiously  and  sprayed  it  through  a  red-white 
hole  that  belched  blinding  heat  into  his  eyes. 

Half-way  up  the  Eange  Munson  slipped  down 
to  the  fuel-deck.  The  dial  showed  one-seventy 
to  the  square  inch,  he  wanted  to  push  the  pres 
sure  to  the  two  hundred  mark.  He  clung  at 
the  side  of  the  cab,  looking  at  Clark  for  a 
moment.  The  engineer's  gaunt  face  was  drawn 
with  suffering,  his  eyes  glistened  with  pain  and 
rage. 

"  Here's  where  we  lose,  here's  where  we  get 
whipped!  "  he  cried,  hoarsely.  "  Why  didn't 
the  idiots  give  us  a  helper  up  the  Eange?  The 
high-collared  imbeciles!  " 

Clark  steadied  himself  and  from  under  a  tan 
gle  of  wet  hair  glared  at  him  red-eyed  and  pant 
ing.  "Shut  up!"  he  shouted,  furiously, 
'  '  we  're  not  whipped !  When  we  make  the 
summit  let  her  fall  to  the  plains,  let  her  drop, 
don't  hold  her,  I  tell  you!  We  are  going  to 
make  connection  with  the  Eastern  Fast  Mail  at 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON      311 

Denver,  we  are  going  in  on  schedule!  Get  out 
of  my  way  and  let  me  work !  ' ' 

Munson 's  long  arm  reached  out  and  his 
grimy  fingers  closed  like  talons  upon  the  young 
fellow's  slippery  shoulders.  Their  hot,  strain 
ing  faces  were  close  together.  "  Don't  order 
me,  you  young  lobster!  No  matter  whose  son 

ftV  y°u  are>  don't  7°u — "     The  engineer's  jaw 

— -—--__ 

snapped  shut  and  his  face  wrinkled  in  agony. 

He  would  have  fallen,  only  that  Clark  gripped 
him  about  the  body  and  held  him  up.  "  I'm 
hurt,  son,  I'm  hurt  inside,''  muttered  Munson. 
"  Help  me  up  to  the  seat.  I  think  I  can  handle 
the  levers  till  we  get  in." 

A  flash  of  tenderness  swept  across  Clark's 
distorted  face.  "  Lie  down  here  somewhere, 
Dick,"  he  said.  "  Put  the  cushions  on  the 
floor.  Let  her  run,  I'll  look  at  the  levers  now 
and  then." 

"  No ;  help  me  up  to  the  seat.  Dead  or  alive, 
I'll  ride  her  till  she  goes  under  the  last  sema 
phore,"  said  Munson.  He  crawled  up  with 


312          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Clark's  aid  and  straightened  his  long  legs  to 
the  footboard.  As  he  did  so  he  noticed  Clark's 
bloody  back.  "  Why,  son,  what  is  it?  what 
hurt  you?  "  he  asked  with  strong  concern. 

i '  From  the  explosion  —  something  hit  me  — 
I  don't  feel  it,  not  now,"  was  the  shouted  reply 
as  the  young  fellow  with  fresh  fury  buckled  to 
his  task. 

"  Pour  a  bucket  of  water  over  you,"  came 
Munson's  voice  from  above  him.  Clark  gave 
the  words  no  heed  until  they  were  within  a 
mile  or  two  of  the  summit.  As  the  altitude 
increased  the  noise  of  the  engine  seemed  to 
him  to  increase  until  sounds  rattled  and 
boomed  on  his  ear-drums  like  musketry,  bands 
of  iron  seemed  drawing  together  about  his 
chest  and  head.  Struggling  for  breath,  he 
turned  a  tank-cock  and  let  a  pail  fill  with  water, 
then  dashed  the  cold  fluid  in  a  deluge  over  his 
head  and  body;  then  he  again  fell  to  work. 

As  they  crossed  the  summit  and  the  big 
drivers  began  to  quicken  their  revolutions, 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       313 

Clark  hung  for  a  few  moments  out  the  cab 
window,  gasping  and  dizzy.  Away  to  the  east 
ward  and  far  below  them  spread  an  immeasur 
able  plain.  Mottled  with  green  and  gray  and 
dotted  with  herds  of  cattle,  minute  with  dis 
tance  as  insect  larvae,  the  mighty  apron  of 
earth  swept  eastward,  meeting  on  the  horizon 
a  dim  wall  of  slate-colored  clouds.  Overhead 
the  sky  was  watery  green,  the  August  sun 
glared  hotly,  the  air  seemed  motionless.  Fifty- 
five  miles  still  to  Denver! 

They  went  down  through  twenty  miles  at 
breakneck  speed.  Munson  shut  off  steam,  but 
refused  to  use  the  brakes,  and  engine  and  train 
flooded  toward  the  plain  like  rushing  water. 
Back  and  forth  across  slopes,  around  beetling 
crags  of  stone,  across  chasms  and  down  can 
yons,  they  roared.  There  were  reverse-curves 
that  hurled  Clark  from  one  side  of  the  cab  to 
the  other,  coal  rolled  out  from  the  tender  on 
to  the  fuel-deck  and  danced  under  his  feet,  the 
quadrant  and  reversing  lever  strained  and 


314          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

wrestled  together  in  a  way  that  threatened  to 
tear  up  the  flooring.  Munson,  shaken  and 
pounded  by  the  jerk  and  roll  of  the  engine, 
crumpled  forward  into  a  kind  of  knot,  his  hand 
on  the  throttle,  his  features  seamed  and  drawn, 
his  eyes  aglow  with  defiance  and  pain.  Clark, 
spent  by  labor  at  the  high  altitude,  staggered 
and  clung  to  whatever  was  handy,  but  kept  on 
feeding  the  furnace.  Slowly  the  needle  on  the 
dial  trembled  toward  the  two  hundred  mark, 
a  steady  jet  of  steam  sang  from  the  safety  on 
top  of  the  boiler.  When  they  would  strike  the 
plain,  then  he  wanted  her  to  be  fairly  bursting 
with  power. 

Down  through  Quartz  Cone  and  East  Gulch 
they  hurled,  and  still  onward,  rushing  through 
Barn  Butte,  near  the  foot  of  the  Range  in  shat 
tering  fury.  From  every  telegraph  office  that 
they  passed  the  time  was  flashed  to  Paley  Fork 
and  Denver.  They  still  were  behind  the  sched 
ule  but  were  gaining.  Now  and  then  Munson 
threw  on  the  air,  wringing  sparks  from  the 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON      315 

wheels  in  spirting  showers,  for  at  points  the 
danger  of  leaving  the  track  was  too  imminent 
to  be  ignored. 

As  they  flew  along  the  groove  toward  the 
plain,  Clark  saw  nothing  of  clouds  or  sun  or 
sky,  being  intent  upon  the  steam-gauge  and  the 
fire-box  and  the  baffling  problem  of  keeping 
upon  his  feet.  But  Munson,  when  they  were 
two-thirds  way  down  the  Bange,  became  aware 
that  in  the  east  there  was  rising  a  mountain  of 
vapor,  green,  craggy,  portentous,  immense.  He 
saw  that  the  towering  crag  was  abutted  by  a 
mighty  wave  of  vapor,  stretching  north  and 
south  beyond  the  capacity  of  the  human  eye  to 
compass  it.  He  had  never  before  seen  in  that 
latitude  the  heavens  written  with  so  large  a 
prophecy  of  havoc.  Though  impressed  with 
the  vision  and  dismayed  by  the  thought  that 
the  promised  tornado  might  impede  or  entirely 
block  the  way  to  Denver,  he  conceived  of  noth 
ing  very  clearly.  Numbed  ahd  gripped  by  in 
ward  agony,  he  felt  at  times  his  senses  lapsing. 


316          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

One  impression,  however,  remained  queerly 
vivid,  pricking  into  his  brain  like  a  thorn  of 
fire.  When  they would  enter  the  plain  he  must 
nurse  the  cut-off  and  throttle  for  still  greater 

""          ••«•»•••••—_ o 

speed  and  outrun  the  approaching  tempest.  r; 

They  swung  down  from  the  foot-hills  on  to 
the  level  at  a  killing  pace,  with  each  man  on  the 
train  clinging  to  something  to  keep  himself  up 
right,  all  save  poor  Madden,  who,  buttressed 
solidly  by  heavy  bags  of  mail,  ground  his  teeth 
in  pain  one  moment  and  laughed  the  next. 

"  Dick's  getting  her  there!  "  he  would  cry. 
"  Feel  him  pound  her!  Feel  him  pound  her! 
And  that  boy,  that  boy,  sure  he's  getting  the 
hash  into  her!  We  are  going  some,  Dirken, 
sure  we're  only  hitting  the  high  places.  Trust 
old  Dick,  he'll  jam  her  nose  against  the  Denver 
bunting-post  before  the  President's  watch  ticks 
the  end  of  the  schedule!  " 

They  went  down  into  something  like  a 
vacuum,  a  hot,  thin,  motionless  atmosphere, 
peculiarly  suffocating  and  unrespirable,  a  vast 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       317 

space  from  which  the  normal  gases  had  in 
great  part  lifted  and  toward  which  a  storm  of 
gases  was  rushing  from  the  east.  Swaying  to 
and  fro  on  the  fuel-deck  Clark  felt  his  breath 
catch  at  times  and  a  sense  of  falling  sweep 
over  him.  In  such  moments  he  dashed  water 
over  himself  and  buckled  again  to  the  fight. 
They  might  have  been  seven  or  eight  miles 
northeast  of  Barn  Butte  when  he  noticed  that 
Munson  had  swayed  sidewise  and  was  lying 
with  his  face  among  the  levers.  With  a  thrill 
of  horror  that  sharpened  all  his  faculties,  the 
young  fellow  sprang  up  to  the  engineer's  seat. 
He  caught  Munson  about  the  shoulders,  shout 
ing  wildly  in  his  face.  Munson 's  eyes  were 
closed,  but  his  lips  moved.  Clark  put  his  ear 
close  to  the  engineer's  lips. 

"  I'm  all  in,  son,  —  everything  is  black  —  let 
her  go  wide  —  pound  the  coal  under  her  —  out 
run  the  cyclone  or  we  are  whipped,"  were  the 
broken  sentences  he  heard. 

Clark  laid  the  man  back  on  the  cushion,  then 


318          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

he  saw  rolling  from  the  east  the  indescribable 
billow,  the  tumbling  mountain  of  clouds  at  its 
centre,  a  green  sky  overhead  and  a  world  be 
neath  that  seemed  coated  with  rust.  Here  was 
opposition  indeed,  if  not  actual  destruction! 
All  the  elements  of  his  physical  being  seemed 
drunk  with  exhaustion,  but  at  sight  of  this  in 
calculable  menace  his  whole  nature  seemed  sud 
denly  on  fire;  in  him  burst  an  opposing  tem 
pest,  a  storm  of  mingled  rage  and  protest  and 
terror  and  determination.  What !  had  men  of 
the  Central  fought  moment  by  moment  over 
three  divisions,  battled  through  nearly  three 
hundred  miles  to  conquer  this  schedule,  and 
now,  within  sight  of  the  goal,  were  they  to  be 
blocked  by  the  senseless  elements  ?  He  saw  the 
world-wide  bosom  of  the  storm  threaded  with 
lightning,  arteries  that  ran  fire  instead  of 
blood,  but  he  heard  no  thunder  save  the  roar 
of  the  hurling  machine  that  bore  him. 

As  he  looked  he  saw,  as  something  done  by 
the  strength  and  swiftness  of  the  supernatural, 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON      319 

the  wings  of  the  tempest  break  away  on  either 
side  of  the  mountain  of  clouds,  and  the  moun 
tain  itself  whirl  like  a  gigantic  cylinder,  its  top 
spreading  wide  against  the  sky  and  spinning 
dizzily.  The  monster  looked  to  be  fifteen  or 
twenty  miles  distant,  but  sweeping  slightly  to 
the  northwest.  After  it  on  either  hand  the 
wings  of  the  storm  rushed,  from  time  to  time 
huge  masses  of  vapor  being  sucked  into  the 
flying  cylinder.  The  1206  was  racing  north 
eastward.  It  looked  that  the  cyclone  might 
cross  the  track  within  five  or  eight  miles  of  the 
city.  If  it  crossed  ahead  of  the  train  there 
might  be  no  track  left  at  the  point  of  impact, 
or,  at  least,  ties  might  be  dislodged  and  rails 
twisted,  bringing  wreck;  if  the  train  were 
caught  in  the  heart  of  the  tempest,  the  mail- 
cars,  at  least,  might  be  thrown  from  the  track, 
then  what  of  the  contract  and  how  about  poor 
Madden  and  Munson?  A  force  that  could  fling 
houses  about  as  a  giant  might  throw  paper 
boxes,  mad  gases  plowing  ditches  through  solid 


320          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

ground  and  pulling  trees  up  by  the  roots  with 
the  ease  of  a  man  pulling  up  grass-blades  — 
should  a  human  creature  try  conclusions  with 
such  forces? 

A  glimmer  of  all  this,  vision  and  question 
and  answer,  blazed  through  the  brain  of  the 
dripping  young  fellow  who,  swaying  half-across 
Munson's  body,  looked  up  at  the  storm.  Then 
he  leaped  back  on  the  fuel-deck  and  pulled  out 
a  knife  and  cut  the  bell-cord.  Dirken  should 
not  stop  him !  He  glanced  at  the  quadrant,  the 
reverse  was  biting  near  the  centre;  he  looked 
at  the  throttle,  it  was  set  to  the  last  nick;  the 
needle  of  the  gauge  pointed  to  one-ninety-two. 
They  must  be  making  a  mile  a  minute,  maybe 
more,  he  did  not  know.  He  flung  the  furnace 
door  open  and  stirred  the  raging  bed  of  fire 
with  the  rod,  pounded  blocks  of  coal  into  nut- 
sizes  and  sprayed  the  flaming  mass.  He 
glanced  towards  the  monster  converging  upon 
them  from  the  eastward.  He  must  get  more 
speed,  he  must  get  more  speed !  Suddenly  the 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       321 

safety-valve  hissed  loudly.  He  looked  at  Mun- 
son,  who  rolled  on  the  cushion,  limp  and  pallid 
as  a  dead  man,  then  he  caught  a  chisel  and 
hammer  from  the  box  and  clambered  over  the 
man's  body  and  out  upon  the  board.  Clinging 
for  his  life,  he  drove  the  piece  of  iron  into 
the  safety-valve  and  scrambled  back  into  the 
cab. 

If  the  boiler  gave  way,  let  her,  he  would 
risk  it !  Storm  —  schedule  —  contract  —  and 
wounded  men  in  need  of  doctors !  Was  he  go 
ing  to  let  her  power  blow  itself  out  through  her 
nose?  Not  he,  not  Clark  Sanborn,  who  had 
been  commanded  not  to  sprout  white  feathers ! 

He  feverishly  battered  more  blocks  of  coal 
into  fine  fragments,  then  ripped  the  big  oil 
can  from  the  supply  box  and  threw  it  upon  the 
heap  and  drove  the  pick  through  the  can.  As 
the  oil  gushed  over  the  coal  he  shoveled  the 
mass  into  the  roaring  furnace,  turning  his  eyes 
by  times  toward  the  fearful  thing  eastward. 
The  gauge  needle  trembled  across  the  two  hun- 


322          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

dred  mark  and  crept  on  up  to  two  hundred  and 
five.  The  1206  was  literally  flying  along  the 
steel,  she  sped  in  a  cloud  of  thunder,  seemingly 
every  atom  of  her  aroar  with  vibrations. 

Back  on  the  mail-cars  there  were  three  hot 
boxes,  each  one  flaming,  but  the  chap  on  the 
fuel-deck  did  not  look  back;  he  was  racing  a 
cyclone,  trying  to  outrun  destruction,  fighting 
to  get  a  dying  engineer  to  a  physician,  and  to 
save  the  reputation  of  the  Central.  He  jerked 
the  long-necked  oiler  from  its  rack  and  flung 
it  down  on  the  coal  and  cut  the  can  half  in  two 
with  a  blow  of  the  shovel's  edge,  he  ransacked 
the  seat-boxes  of  their  waste  and  fed  the  in 
flammable  stuff  to  the  furnace,  he  nursed  and 
stirred  and  coaxed  the  last  ounce  of  radiation 
possible  from  the  blinding  mass  in  the  fire-box, 
himself  half-blind  with  salt  sweat  and  giddy 
with  heat.  One  thing,  the  track  was  clear  for 
the  Fast  Mail;  here  and  there  all  along  the 
way  they  had  flashed  by  trains,  standing  se 
curely  on  side-tracks;  but  the  mountain  of 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       323 

whirling  gas  —  there  was  no  siding  for  that, 
it  had  to  be  outstripped  and  beaten. 

Swiftly  the  forces  approached  each  other, 
the  vast  pillar  of  cloud  that  extended  from 
earth  to  heaven  and  the  superb  man-made 
thing  speeding  across  the  plain.  Under  the 
tread  of  the  tempest  and  its  bursting  thunder 
the  world  jarred  and  shook,  the  whole  atmos 
phere  of  the  region  buzzed  as  from  the  swarm 
ing  of  a  billion  invisible  bees,  the  air  was 
pricked  with  fragments  of  buildings,  with 
fences,  shade-trees,  dust  and  the  products  of 
the  fields.  The  hue  of  all  things  was  a  russet- 
green.  The  1206  seemed  straining  every  fibre, 
the  gauge-needle  crept  to  two  hundred  and 
eight;  surely  she  was  making  ninety  miles  an 
hour,  maybe  a  hundred,  no  man  would  ever 
know.  Clark  fed  her,  fed  her,  fed  her,  working 
like  a  demon.  They  shot  past  stations  that 
he  did  not  see.  Words  leaped  along  the  wire 
to  President  Sanborn  and  back  to  Paley  Fork 
to  Manvell  and  Burke: 


324          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  Fast  Mail  in  danger  of  cyclone;  trying 
to  outrun  the  storm;  making  fearful  speed. " 

The  whole  Central  in  fancy  was  trembling 
and  watching.  Burke  was  pacing  the  floor  of 
the  despatchers'  office  in  Paley  Fork,  Sanborn 
was  down  in  the  great  train-shed  in  Denver, 
walking  up  and  down  the  track,  for  once  be 
side  himself.  But  Clark  did  not  know;  he  was 
pouring  his  life  into  an  effort  to  melt  the  heart 
of  the  1206  and  to  get  her  last  drop  of  power 
into  the  wheels.  Black,  bedraggled,  open- 
mouthed,  he  fought.  In  moments  he  seemed  to 
lose  his  sense  of  hearing,  ,the  thunder  of  the 
engine  dwindling  until  it  seemed  as  if  he  were 
listening  only  to  a  thin  stream  of  water  gur 
gling  down  a  pipe,  then  it  all  came  back  clamor 
ing  in  awful  dissonance. 

Suddenly  he  was  aware  that  a  reeling  moun 
tain  was  towering  above  him,  jets  of  icy  air 
hissed  against  his  reeking  body,  darting  things 
stung  him,  there  was  so  wild  a  roar  that  the 
noise  of  the  1206  sang  through  it  like  the  hum 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       325 

of  a  bowstring.  The  next  moment  he  was 
rushing  through  greenish  darkness  and  his 
breath  seemed  plucked  clean  out  of  his  body, 
and  the  next  he  was  in  brownish  twilight. 
Grasping  the  hand-grips  he  swung  out  the 
gangway  and  looked  back.  He  saw  box  cars 
being  hurled  from  a  side-track  and  a  section 
house  crashing  out  upon  the  prairie.  The 
whirling  heart  of  the  tempest  had  crossed  the 
track  just  behind  the  train,  they  had  grazed 
the  monster  by  a  hair ! 

They  were  now  in  the  north  wing  of  the 
storm;  rain  gushed  over  them  and  a  fierce 
wind  blew,  but  they  were  in  straight-flowing 
currents,  beyond  the  crushing  power  of  the  ele 
mental  vortex.  The  1206  was  tearing  through 
the  wind  and  rain  with  her  gauge  at  two  hun 
dred  and  ten.  Clark  looked  at  his  watch.  His 
hands  shook  so  that  he  could  hardly  hold  the 
timepiece.  He  did  not  know  precisely  where 
they  were,  but  fancied  that  they  were  now  not 
more  than  eight  or  ten  minutes  behind  the 


326          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

schedule.  He  looked  at  Munson,  then  swung 
over  and  pressed  a  hand  above  the  man's 
heart;  pulse  and  breath  were  still  alive  in  the 
engineer's  bosom;  that  was  all  Clark  could 
tell.  He  pushed  the  wet  hair  back  from  his  own 
eyes  and  looked  at  the  steam-gauge.  Should 
he  take  the  wedge  out  of  the  safety?  Not  yet, 
not  yet!  He  looked  at  the  water-gauge,  it 
registered  a  supply  but  little  above  the  danger- 
point.  He  set  the  injectors  working,  but  there 
seemed  little  response;  the  supply  in  the  tank 
was  falling  low.  But  surely  five  or  seven 
minutes  at  this  tremendous  pace  would  take 
them  into  the  city. 

There  was  peril  at  many  points;  the  hot 
journals  on  the  rear  cars,  the  low  water,  the 
perilous  pressure  of  steam  in  the  boiler,  the 
numerous  switches  through  which  they  were 
running  as  they  neared  the  city.  But  the 
tower-men  must  keep  the  track  clear,  that  was 
not  Clark's  business,  and  so  long  as  the  1206 
had  an  open  throttle  and  was  greedily  using 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       327 

steam,  surely  her  boiler  would  hold.  Half- 
thoughts,  intuitions,  sparks  and  filmings  of 
reason,  glimpsed  across  his  consciousness  as 
he  worked,  while  the  1206  tore  onward  through 
lightning  and  wind  and  rain,  a  gigantic  and 
hurling  bolt  of  force. 

Trackmen  and  citizens  and  the  men  in  the 
towers  never  before  saw  a  train  go  by  as  did 
that  one.  Across  frogs  and  through  switches 
she  battered  in  thunder  and  at  a  pace  that 
seemed  appalling.  Though  it  was  >  raining, 
everywhere  throughout  the  suburbs  people 
were  watching  for  the  Central's  first  Fast  Mail. 
They  saw  a  train  flying,  the  smoke  from  her 
engine's  stack  streaming  straight  back,  and 
flames  flaring  from  hot  boxes.  In  the  edge  of 
the  city  there  were  people  who  saw  a  black 
ened,  half -naked  young  fellow  out  on  the  boiler, 
knocking  a  wedge  from  the  safety-valve,  then, 
not  eight  hundred  feet  from  the  train-shed,  the 
great  drivers  of  the  1206  were  reversed,  the  air 
went  on  and  the  brakes  bit  the  wheels  into 


328          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

wreaths  of  red.  Pitching  and  straining  as  if  its 
fabric  might  burst  in  pieces,  the  train  skated 
into  the  train-shed.  It  looked  for  the  moment 
to  be  on  fire  from  end  to  end.  Shuddering  and 
loudly  creaking,  the  train  came  to  a  standstill, 
the  pilot  of  the  1206  crushed  against  the  safety- 
post. 

Black  as  a  negro  and  streaked  with  blood, 
a  young  fellow  with  a  shirt  thrown  around  his 
shoulders  staggered  down  from  the  gangway. 
People  were  swarming  about  him.  He  heard 
a  voice  yell : 

"  Only  two  minutes  behind  the  schedule!  ' 
He  heard  another  hoarser  voice  shouting, 
66  Fall  to!  Transfer  the  mails!  Get  busy, 
men!  "  Then  a  strong-faced,  gray-haired  man 
pushed  toward  him,  wonder  and  alarm  and 
questionings  in  his  eyes. 

"  My  poor  boy!  "  the  young  fellow  heard 
the  man  say  huskily.  He  felt  the  man's  arms 
about  his  body,  but  things  were  not  very  clear 
to  the  young  fellow ;  the  place  seemed  to  swim 


THE    PRESIDENT'S    SON       329 

around    and    be    paved    with   gaping    human 
faces. 

$  "  Don't  mind  me,  pater/'  the  young  fellow 
heard  himself  saying.  "  Pull  the  fire  from  the 
engine,  or  get  water  into  her,  quick!  Dick's 
up  on  the  seat  there  —  unconscious  through  the 
last  thirty  miles !  Get  —  a  —  doctor !  ' '  Then 
he  heard  voices  all  about  him,  excited,  strident, 
but  these  lapsed  and  dwindled  into  whispers, 
then  he  was  listening  to  a  thin  stream  of  water 
gurgling  down  a  pipe,  then  it  was  dark. 

A  week  later  Clark  sat  by  the  president's 
desk.  The  president  smiled.  "  We've  got  the 
contract  for  the  mail  at  six  hours  and  thirty 
minutes,"  he  said.  "  With  auxiliary  engines 
properly  placed  I  think  we  can  handle  it  all 
right." 

11  I  suppose  I'd  best  take  Dan  Madden's 
place  for  a  while,"  said  Clark  dryly,  the  cor 
ners  of  his  mouth  twitching. 

66  Young  'man,  you  will  stay  here  at  head- 


330          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

quarters;  I've  got  other  things  for  you  to  do," 
said  the  president. 

"  But  I  was  to  fire  awhile,  you  know, 
pater!  r 

* t  Drop  it !  As  a  fireman  you  are  a  graduate. 
Bring  those  time-cards  over  here;  we  will 
figure  out  the  new  schedule." 


CHAPTER   XI 

DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC 

TO  what  extent  Dippy  Hamilton's  applica 
tion  of  the  principle  of  "  dynamic  reten 
tion  "  affected  the  stability  of  Ball  Bridge 
when  the  Big  Bear  Paw  "  went  loco  "  will 
probably  never  be  known.  Attempts  were 
made  to  estimate  the  exerted  forces  in  tons 
and  amperes,  but,  at  best,  the  calculations 
eventuated  in  something  very  like  speculation. 
Even  Pierce  Fuller,  the  chief  engineer,  worked 
out  an  estimate,  but  acknowledged  that  his 
totals  were  approximate  only.  After  that, 
where  was  the  use  of  the  rest  of  us  figuring  at 
the  problem! 

Dewey  Hamilton  —  the  source  of  his  sobri 
quet  ought  to  become  obvious,  with  the  prog 
ress  of  this  narrative  —  was  nearly  six  feet 

331 


332          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

in  height,  though  his  years  were  but  nineteen. 
His  slim  figure  evinced  a  slight  tendency  to 
stoop  at  the  shoulders,  and  his  big  head  seemed 
always  pushing  forward  as  if  to  aid  his  keen 
hazel  eyes  in  their  search  after  hidden  things. 
Doctor  Brandette,  the  surgeon  for  the  West 
End,  having  been  spoken  to  by  Hoxie,  a  round 
house  foreman,  relative  to  a  rather  astonishing 
thing  that  Dippy  did  when  an  accident  occurred 
in  the  Manzano  shops,  said,  interrogatively: 
"  The  boy  was  excited,  of  course?  " 

"  Yes,  I  reckon  he  was,"  Hoxie  replied. 
"  At  least  the  situation  was  exciting.  The  boy 
didn't  show  it  much,  though;  only  his  face 
seemed  to  sort  of  flash  and  his  eyes  burned 
golden  red." 

The  doctor  touched  his  own  forehead  signifi 
cantly.  ' i  Mind, ' '  he  remarked,  oracularly,  — 
"  cerebral  force  —  genius,  some  people  call  it, 
—  in  point  of  fact,  extra  high  vibration." 

Hoxie  looked  somewhat  mystified.  "  The 
chap  has  his  cocoa  full  of  ideas  about  inven- 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   333 

tions  and  new  ways  of  doing  things,  anyhow," 
he  went  on.  "  Fonda  says  that  sometimes  the 
boy  works  like  fury;  then,  again,  he  dreams 
and  don't  seem  to  know  what  he's  doing.  He 
likes  him  all  right,  but  is  sort  of  afraid  to  have 
him  in  the  shops;  he  says  he's  afraid  the 
young  fellow  may  do  damage  or  cause  the 
death  of  somebody  in  one  of  his  fits  of  forget- 
fulness.  He  says  that,  smart  as  the  young 
chap  is,  he  thinks  he'll  have  to  fire  him." 

"  Seems  a  pity!  "  said  the  surgeon. 
"  Where  does  the  boy  live?  Who  is  he,  any 
way?  " 

11  Set  down,  Doc.,  and  have  a  stogie;  here's 
one.  I've  got  to  order  out  an  engine;  be  with 
you  in  a  minute." 

Doctor  Brandette,  with  his  instrument  case  in 
hand,  had  been  standing  upon  the  door-sill  of 
Hoxie's  little  office,  in  the  corner  of  the  round 
house.  The  strong  Arizona  sunshine  beat 
against  him  uncomfortably  warm.  He  turned 
back  and  sat  down.  From  within  the  round- 


334          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

house  came  sounds  of  engines  breathing,  of 
wipers  whistling,  of  grates  being  shaken  over 
ash-pits,  and  the  dull  thumping  of  wrenches  on 
bolt-nuts ;  from  the  big  repair  shop,  a  hundred 
feet  away,  came  a  jarring  rumble  of  sounds,  — 
drills  growling  as  they  bit  into  iron,  the  titter 
ing  snarl  of  planers,  the  mumble  of  line-shaft 
ing,  the  occasional  smashing  blows  of  steam- 
hammers,  and  the  crackling  beat  of  electric 
riveters  working  on  boilers  and  fire-boxes. 
Outside,  white,  sweet,  and  dry,  the  light  lay 
over  Manzano's  scattered  dwellings,  mountains 
rose  brown  and  solemn  against  a  sky  that  was 
as  a  dome  of  blue  vitriol,  engine  bells  clanged 
in  the  yards,  and  now  and  again  the  crystalline 
air  was  ruptured  by  the  clumping  crash  of 
meeting  drawheads.  The  region  seemed  a  fit 
ting  place  for  monks,  vineyards,  and  convent 
bells,  but  here  the  Western  Central,  winding 
through  canyons  and  over  mountain  ranges 
across  Colorado  and  down  into  Arizona,  gave 
its  animate  and  inanimate  freight  into  the 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  335 

keeping  of  a  great  transcontinental  line,  taking 
in  return  humanity  and  merchandise  for  Den 
ver  and  points  north  and  east.  Hence,  the 
solemn  valley  complained  to  the  solemn  moun 
tains  in  divers  notes  of  commercial  dissonance, 
and  things  were  not  as  of  old. 

"  Well,"  said  Hoxie,  reentering  the  office, 
"  the  fellow  is  an  Eastern  chap,  I'm  told;  came 
here  with  his  father,  a  year  or  two  ago; 
mother  dead,  father  had  bad  lungs,  —  had  been 
a  preacher,  I  think.  The  man  and  boy  lived  in 
a  tent  over  on  the  base  of  Sun  Mountain,  the 
first  summer,  then  moved  into  a  shack  out  at 
the  edge  of  town.  Last  spring  the  old  man 
croaked.  They  never  had  a  doctor ;  too  poor, 
I  reckon,  or  mebby  put  their  faith  in  the 
climate  and  got  left.  Anyhow,  the  man  died 
and  the  boy  got  a  job  in  the  shops  and  has  been 
workin'  there  since.  He  still  lives  in  the  shack; 
that  is,  he  has  a  bunk  there.  The  place  is 
principally  filled  up  with  a  work-bench  and 
electrical  fixtures  of  one  kind  or  another.  He 


336          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

gets  his  meals  over  at  Jack  Morton's,  near  by. 
Morton  says  the  kid  has  ideas,  and  will  sure 
turn  out  an  inventor,  one  of  these  days.  They 
seem  to  like  him,  especially  the  daughter 
Violet.  She—" 

Sharp  shouts  of  terror  and  a  grinding  crash 
broke  from  the  repair  shop,  followed  by  a  loud 
tangle  of  words  and  cries.  Hoxie  caught  his 
speech  between  his  teeth;  Doctor  Brandette 
reached  for  his  instrument  case  and  got  to  his 
feet,  listening.  The  next  moment  they  were 
out  the  door  and  running  along  the  tracks  that 
led  from  the  roundhouse  to  the  repair  shops. 
They  burst  in  through  the  great  door  and 
looked  about.  Men  were  shouting  and  running 
to  and  fro.  A  workman  hung  pinioned  against 
the  brick  wall  on  the  north  side  of  the  great 
room  with  an  iron  planer  tipped  over  against 
him.  Almost  upon  the  man,  and  crushed  into 
the  planer,  the  body  of  a  locomotive  hung  in 
chains  and  grapples  from  the  steel  mast  of  a 
moving-crane.  The  guide-cable  of  the  crane 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   337 

had  parted,  and  the  ponderous  engine,  sus 
pended  in  the  air  a  few  feet  above  the  floor, 
had  swung  around  toward  the  north  wall, 
crushing  and  overturning  everything  in  its 
path.  The  pinioned  man,  Jack  Morton,  work 
ing  at  the  planer  with  his  back  to  the  wall?  had 
been  caught  in  the  crush.  Only  his  feet  were 
visible  to  Hoxie  and  the  surgeon  as  they  ran 
forward.  Doubtless  he  was  dead.  Foreman 
Fonda  was  ripping  out  orders  that  sounded 
like  popping  whip-lashes,  men  in  smutted  over 
alls  were  tugging  at  the  pendent  engine,  and 
others  were  trying  to  get  at  Morton ;  two  with 
trembling  hands  were  trying  to  fit  a  jackscrew 
between  the  wall  and  the  frame  of  the  over 
turned  planer,  with  the  object  of  driving  the 
planer  and  engine  outward  that  the  crushed 
man  might  be  released.  The  grimy  faces  of 
the  men  glistened  with  sweat  and  were  spotted 
with  pallor,  and  there  was  a  curious  undertone 
of  quick,  shallow  breathing.  Then  of  one  thing 
the  surgeon  and  Hoxie  were  particularly  aware : 


338          THE   DIAMOND    KEY 

a  tall  young  fellow  thrust  a  crowbar  upward  be 
hind  the  frame  of  the  overturned  planer,  where 
the  frame  projected  slightly  beyond  the  boiler- 
head  of  the  engine.  Securing  a  clutch  on  the 
wall  with  the  point  of  the  bar,  he  planted  his 
feet  against  the  wall  three  or  four  feet  above 
the  floor,  and  began  to  straighten  his  body  out 
ward. 

"Pull!"  he  hissed,  through  his  teeth. 
"  Pull,  every  mother's  son  of  you!  " 

His  slender  body  stiffened  as  with  a  sudden 
shock  of  power,  his  face,  bent  backward,  the 
hair  falling  away  from  the  broad  forehead, 
turned  purple  and  seemed  to  film  and  shimmer, 
and  his  hazel  eyes  glistened  red.  A  half-dozen 
men,  clutching  the  locomotive  at  different 
points,  heaved  outward  with  might  and  main, 
the  boy's  body  quivered  and  cracked,  his  eyes 
enlarged,  and  his  nostrils  grew  white,  and  the 
mass  of  iron  moved  slowly  outward  until  his 
body  stood  stiff  and  straight  from  the  wall. 
Then  Jack  Morton,  released,  but  like  a  rag, 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  339 

dropped  to  the  floor  and  was  dragged  out  into 
the  open. 

The  youth  stood  upright;  the  crowbar  was 
bent  six  inches  out  of  line,  and  he  could  not  let 
go  of  it.  Fonda  pulled  the  boy's  fingers  loose 
from  the  bar,  and  the  young  fellow  staggered 
and  pressed  his  hands  over  his  ears  and  stared 
as  if  he  heard  strange  noises.  Morton,  accom 
panied  by  the  surgeon  and  several  men,  was 
borne  away  on  a  stretcher. 

That  evening  Dippy  Hamilton  sat  by  Jack 
Morton's  bed.  The  boy's  face  looked  pinched 
and  white,  and  his  fine  eyes  were  dulled  with 
mental  anguish.  Morton's  eyes  were  closed, 
his  great  lungs  labored  heavily,  and  his  big 
right  hand  lay  crumpled  upon  the  white 
counterpane.  Dippy  slipped  his  slim  fingers 
over  the  man's  hand  caressingly. 

"  The  doctor  said  —  he  said  you  would  live, 
didn't  he,  Jack?  " 

Morton's  gray  eyes  opened  and  focused  on 


340          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

the  young  fellow's  face.  "  Yes,  —  mebby,"  he 
whispered,  huskily. 

The  youth  stirred  in  his  chair  with  a  motion 
that  was  a  kind  of  writhing,  and  the  pallor  of 
his  flesh  deepened.  "I  am  to  blame,  Jack," 
he  said;  "if  you  die,  then  —  I  —  killed  — 
you." 

Morton's  eyes  widened,  and  in  their  gray 
depths  there  was  a  sort  of  terror.  "  You? 
Boy,  what  are  you  talking  about?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  was  up  on  the  boiler  of  the  engine,  sig 
naling  to  the  hoister,  you  know,"  said  Dippy. 
"  Well,  I  was  standing  up  on  the  boiler  with 
my  face  near  the  lower  block  of  the  fall  and 
tackle.  As  the  engine  was  being  swung  toward 
the  skids  an  idea  flashed  through  my  mind,  an 
idea  of  a  great  invention.  It  seemed  to  clutch 
and  wring  my  brain,  and  I  gave  the  wrong  sig 
nal.  Yes,  I  gave  the  wrong  signal.  I  had  in 
my  hand  a  small  piece  of  bar  iron  that  I  had 
picked  up,  intending  to  make  a  magnet  of  it 
when  I  went  home.  Seeing  that  the  engine 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  341 

was  swinging  the  wrong  way,  and  being  con 
fused  by  the  strange  scheme  that  had  entered 
my  head,  I  stuck  the  piece  of  iron  between  the 
left  guide-cable  and  the  pulley  in  the  block  in 
order  to  increase  the  friction  and  help  check 
the  draw  of  the  cable.  The  piece  of  iron 
wedged  the  sheave  so  suddenly  that  the  cable 
snapped,  and  the  engine  swung  round  to  the 
right  and  crushed  the  planer  and  you  against 
the  wall.  It 's  all  my  fault,  —  because  crazy 
notions  come  into  my  brain  sometimes,  and  I 
forget  what  I  am  doing." 

The  big  machinist  looked  down  at  his  right 
hand,  lying  upon  the  counterpane;  his  other 
hand  and  arm  were  in  a  plaster  cast,  three  of 
his  ribs  were  broken,  and  he  had  suffered  in 
ternal  injuries.  After  a  time  he  looked  up  at 
Dippy. 

"  Have  you  told  Fonda?  "  he  asked,  slowly. 

"Yes.  He  has  discharged  me.  I  —  I  — 
ought  to  be  put  in  the  penitentiary,"  said  the 


342          THE   DIAMOND    KEY 

youth,  twisting  his  hands  together  in  an  agony 
of  self-reproach. 

Morton  turned  his  eyes  away,  and  looked  for 
a  time  at  a  lighted  lamp  on  a  stand  near  the 
foot  of  the  bed.  At  length  he  turned  his  eyes 
back  to  the  boy.  "  Tommy  and  Susie  and 
Violet,  —  they've  got  no  mother,  you  know." 

11  Yes,"  faltered  Dippy,  with  dry  lips,  "  I've 
thought  of  that  " 

"  If  I  die  it'll  be  bad,—  pretty  hard  for 
them--" 

"  I  know.  I'll  give  every  cent  I  can  earn 
to  them.  I—" 

Dippy  stopped,  distraught,  unable  to  speak, 
his  lower  lip  twitching. 

Morton  looked  at  the  counterpane,  for  a 
time,  with  unseeing  eyes,  his  chest  slowly  heav 
ing.  ' i  What  sort  of  a  thing  was  it  ?  —  what 
kind  of  an  idea  struck  you  when  you  —  when 
you  forgot  and  —  and  made  the  mistake  ?  ' '  he 
asked. 

The  youth  "  pulled  himself  together."    "  It 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  343 

occurred  to  me  —  I  seemed  to  see  the  engine- 
drivers  magnetized  on  up  grades,  clutching  the 
rails  with  twice  their  usual  power,  and  so  pull 
ing  much  heavier  trains  and  doing  away  en 
tirely  with  the  use  of  sand.  It  seemed  to  me 
a  great  idea." 

Morton  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  young  fellow's 
face.  Despite  his  pain  and  the  fearful  injury 
the  boy's  forgetfulness  had  brought  upon  him, 
admiration  shone  in  his  gaze. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  you  forgot,  —  that  you 
blundered,"  he  said.  "  If  you  could  apply  the 
idea,  —  make  it  work,  —  it  would  certain  put 
you  to  the  front  every  way."  He  pushed  his 
free  hand  toward  Dippy,  and  the  young  fellow 
grasped  and  bowed  his  face  upon  it.  "  You 
didn't  mean  to  do  the  damage,"  Morton  went 
on ;  "it  was  an  accident ;  whatever  happens,  I 
know  you'll  do  right."  Tears  from  Dippy 's 
cheeks  ran  into  the  hollow  of  the  man's  cal 
loused  hand. 

Later,  when  Dippy  came  out  of  the  bedroom 


344  THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

into  the  living-room  of  the  Morton  cottage, 
Susie,  seven  or  eight  years  of  age,  and  Tommy, 
a  curly-headed  tot  of  three  summers,  were 
asleep  in  a  rocking-chair.  The  little  girl  had 
been  rocking  the  boy  as  a  mother  might  rock 
a  baby,  and  slumber  had  fallen  upon  them  to 
gether.  Violet,  a  brown-haired  girl  of  seven 
teen,  with  a  serious,  tender  face,  and  eyes  that 
Dippy  had  always  thought  most  beautiful,  was 
preparing  to  put  the  children  to  bed.  Dippy 
looked  at  them,  deeply  touched.  Violet  had 
been  coming  and  going,  throughout  the  evening, 
busy  with  the  housework  and  waiting  upon  her 
father.  She  glanced  at  Dippy 's  troubled  face. 
When  this  tall  youth  looked  at  her  with  his 
clear  eyes,  her  own  had  always  fallen;  be 
tween  them  lay  a  great  tenderness,  a  sweet 
regard,  of  which  both  were  conscious,  but  of 
which  no  word  had  ever  been  spoken.  Now, 
what  if  Morton  should  die! 
Dippy  came  in  front  of  her,  put  his  hands 


I'LL    TRY    WITH    ALL    MY    MIGHT    TO    MAKE    IT    RIGHT," 

SAID  DIPPY,  HUSKILY.  —  Page  345. 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   345 

upon  her  shoulders,  and  looked  down  at  her 
averted  face.  He  was  trembling  and  white. 

' i  Violet,  did  you  hear  what  I  said,  —  what 
I  told  your  father?  "  he  asked. 

She  remained  looking  down,  her  body  utterly 
still. 

11  Yes,  I  heard. "  Her  voice  was  dry  and 
scarcely  audible. 

"I'll  do  my  best,  — I'll  try  with  all  my 
might  to  make  it  right, "  said  Dippy,  huskily. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  and  looked  into  his  longer 
than  at  any  other  time  since  she  had  known 
him.  Suddenly  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
"  You  have  no  work,  now;  they've  discharged 
you?  "  she  said. 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  I'll  get  Uncle  Dave  to  give  you  a 
position ;  I  think  he  will,  if  I  ask  him." 

Dippy  felt  something  rise  into  his  throat, 
something  sweet  but  choking.  "  And  you'd  do 
this?  —  you'd  help  me  after  what  I  have 
done?  "  He  half -whispered  the  words. 


346          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

"  You  didn't  mean  it;  it  was  an  —  an  acci 
dent,  "  she  said,  still  looking  at  him  pityingly. 

Dippy 's  fingers  tightened  on  her  shoulders, 
then  he  turned  abruptly  and  went  out,  unable 
to  speak.  The  kindness  of  these  people  smote 
him  like  a  mighty,  melting  breath,  a  something 
that  fell  upon  him  warm  and  delicious,  yet  filled 
him  with  abject  humility. 

Before  breakfast,  the  next  morning,  Violet 
hurried  down  the  hillside  and  across  the  town 
to  the  home  of  David  Prang,  the  "  tank  man." 
Prang  had  charge  of  all  the  pumps  and  water- 
tanks  of  the  Western  Central.  He  was  a  big, 
gaunt  man,  rough  and  strong  as  a  lion;  but 
Violet  was  his  dead  sister's  child,  and  her  ap 
peal  for  Dippy  won  its  way. 

"  All  right,  my  kitten,  I'll  put  him  in  charge 
of  the  pump  and  tank  at  Ball  Bridge,"  he  at 
last  said.  ' l  It  will  be  solitary  confinement,  — 
next  thing  to  being  in  the  penitentiary.  He 
ought  to  be  confined  and  not  allowed  to  run 
at  large,  anyhow."  He  ended  with  a  chuckle, 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  347 

but,  despite  his  bantering  irony,  Violet  kissed 
him  gleefully. 

So  Dippy  Hamilton  went  up  to  the  Ball 
Bridge  tank,  and  became  a  "  solitary."  He 
was  not  wholly  unhappy,  for  he  took  with  him 
his  tools,  uncompleted  inventions,  and  electrical 
apparatus.  He  found  it  a  strange,  lonely 
place ;  but  several  things  up  there  were  exactly 
as  he  might  have  wished.  Ball  Bridge  was  a 
long  iron  structure  spanning  the  Big  Bear  Paw, 
in  the  outlying  spurs  of  the  Saddle  Bow  Range, 
forty  miles  northeast  of  Manzano.  The  bridge 
took  its  name  from  Ball  Mountain,  a  round- 
topped  height,  around  the  base  of  which  wound 
the  Big  Bear  Paw.  The  water-tank  and  pump- 
house  stood  by  the  track  a  half-mile  eastward 
from  the  bridge,  where  a  creek  emptied  into  the 
river;  back  of  the  house,  which  contained  the 
pump  and  the  engine,  stood  a  small  building,  in 
which  Dippy  ate  and  slept.  This  was  of  a  plan 
adequate  for  the  housing  of  a  small  family,  — 
a  main  room,  two  bedrooms,  and  a  kitchen. 


348          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Within  a  week  Dippy  had  improvised  a  work 
bench  in  the  main  room,  and  ere  long  the  place 
was  cluttered  with  batteries,  electric  coils,  mag 
nets,  and  wheeled  things  of  divers  sorts,  cast 
ing  out  green  sparks  or  silently  seizing  and 
holding  fast  to  other  things  with  invisible 
potency.  Dippy  was  working  on  his  great  idea 
of  traction  magnetism.  Before  leaving  Man- 
zano,  at  Jack  Morton's  request,  he  had  opened 
his  mind  to  Doctor  Brandette.  The  doctor  ap 
proved,  and,  in  proof  of  his  interest,  sent  a 
small  dynamo  up  to  the  Ball  Bridge  tank  for 
Dippy  ?s  use.  This  the  youth  attached  to  the 
pump  engine,  finding  the  dynamo  invaluable  in 
the  creation  of  electric  currents  for  the  work 
ing  of  his  apparatus.  His  salary  as  tank  attend 
ant  was  not  large;  but,  at  the  end  of  the  first 
month,  he  sent  half  of  his  wages  down  to  Jack 
Morton.  Violet  returned  the  money  to  him, 
with  expressions  of  gratitude  from  herself  and 
father,  adding  that  her  father  was  recovering 
and  that  their  immediate  needs  were  being  met 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  349 

by  weekly  payments  received  from  a  work 
men's  order  to  which  he  belonged.  Jack  Mor 
ton  enclosed  a  scrawled  line  in  the  letter,  which 
read:  "  Don't  fret,  kid,  but  keep  a-workin'  on 
the  idee."  This  line  was  as  music  to  Dippy. 

Through  two  months  the  young  "  solitary  " 
worked  in  the  mountain  silence.  The  Big  Bear 
Paw,  unflushed  by  the  Saddle  Bow  peaks  and 
depleted  by  the  summer  heat,  dwindled  to  the 
dimensions  of  a  halting  creek,  the  rivulet  at 
the  mouth  of  which  the  tank  stood  became  a 
tiny  thread,  but  the  big  well  at  its  marge  re 
mained  faithful,  and  Dippy  kept  the  tank  brim 
ming.  Occasionally,  David  Prang  dropped  off 
at  the  tank  from  a  passing  train  and  looked 
things  over,  smiling  forbearingly  at  Dippy 's 
contrivances;  now  and  again,  a  section  fore 
man  and  his  crew  went  by  or  worked  for  a  time 
near  at  hand ;  but,  in  the  main,  Dippy  had  only 
the  brown  silence  and  a  pair  of  eagles  that 
nested  on  Ball  Mountain  for  company.  There 
was  one  thing  that  would  have  furnished  him 


350          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

a  deal  of  companionship,  had  he  been  a  Morse 
expert.  That  was  a  rusty  telegraph  instru 
ment,  resting  upon  a  shelf  in  one  corner  of  his 
little  house.  He  knew  the  Morse  alphabet  in 
differently;  he  had  learned  it  back  East  when 
he  was  younger;  but,  in  order  that  he  might 
"  read  "  a  message,  it  necessarily  had  to  be 
sent  to  him  very  slowly  indeed.  The  zipping 
dashes  and  dots  that  ordinarily  animated  the 
wire  were  totally  unintelligible  to  him.  He 
often  listened  to  messages,  straining  to  com 
prehend  the  whizzing  pulsations,  but,  for  the 
most  part,  in  vain.  Sometimes,  at  night,  when 
the  line  was  unoccupied,  some  lonely  operator, 
almost  as  unlearned  in  Morse  as  himself,  would 
"  practise  "  with  him,  and  so  he  gained  a 
slight  knowledge  of  the  art. 

At  the  Ball  Bridge  tank  there  was  an  ancient 
hand-car,  left  at  the  place  for  the  attendant's 
use  in  the  event  of  an  emergency.  To  Dippy 's 
mind  this  was  a  happy  providence;  upon  the 
truck  of  this  hand-car  he  made  his  first  experi- 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  351 

merit  in  wheel-adhesion.  Bending  a  soft  bar 
of  iron  into  a  modified  horseshoe  form,  winding 
it  heavily  with  insulated  wire,  and  fitting  the 
ends  of  the  curved  bar  with  copper  brushes,  he 
rigged  the  affair  between  two  of  the  wheels  of 
the  hand-car,  with  the  brushes  resting  against 
the  wheels  close  to  the  point  of  their  contact 
with  the  rails.  Throwing  a  current  from  the 
dynamo  into  the  coil,  he  found  that  the  bar 
and  the  periphery  of  the  wheels  became  highly 
magnetized,  the  wheels  clinging  to  the  rails 
with  such  power  that  he  could  scarcely  lift 
them  away.  Pushing  the  car  along  the  rails, 
he  found  that  the  resistance,  by  reason  of  the 
wheels  being  magnetized,  was  but  slightly  in 
creased,  while  the  power  of  adhesion  in  the 
wheels  was  greatly  augmented.  Surely,  he 
thought,  if  a  locomotive's  drivers  were  treated 
thus,  the  engine  would  need  no  sand  and  would 
be  able  to  haul  twice  as  many  cars.  Having  no 
dynamometer,  he  could  not  calculate  the  in 
crease  of  power,  but  it  seemed  very  great. 


352          THE   DIAMOND    KEY 

The  youth  began  to  dream  of  many  things. 
Why  not  use  magnets  for  brakes  on  the  wheels 
of  trains,  throwing  a  current  into  the  brake- 
shoes  from  a  dynamo  on  the  engine,  and  releas 
ing  the  magnetic  clutch  on  the  wheels  by  the 
engineer's  merely  moving  a  switch?  Clearly, 
he  thought,  an  engine  would  pull  more  cars 
with  its  drivers  magnetized;  but  magnetic 
brakes,  —  how  would  he  get  at  them?  He 
would  energize  a  couple  of  rails  of  the  track 
near  the  tank,  and  watch  the  effect  upon  pass 
ing  trains.  Curiously,  that  thought  was  the 
salvation  of  Ball  Bridge. 

It  was  late  in  September  when  Dippy  reached 
this  point  in  his  experiments ;  ten  days  later  he 
had  completed  his  arrangement  to  magnetize 
the  rails.  Wishing  that  the  matter  might  re 
main  a  secret,  he  did  most  of  the  work  at  night. 
Selecting  a  right  and  a  left  rail  in  the  track,  he 
loosened  the  fish-plates,  slipped  sheets  of  hard 
rubber  beneath  them,  and  screwed  them  down 
again.  He  then  tamped  rubber  into  the  joints 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   353 

between  the  rails,  thus  separating  and  insulat 
ing  a  rail  from  its  fellows  on  either  side  of  the 
track.  He  then  prepared  a  bar  of  soft  iron, 
as  in  the  experiment  with  the  hand-car,  except 
that  the  curved  bar  was  larger  and  more  heav 
ily  wound  with  insulated  wire.  Digging  a  hole 
some  two  feet  deep  between  the  ties,  he  placed 
the  curved  bar  beneath  the  track  and  sold 
ered  an  end  of  the  bar  solidly  to  the  under  side 
of  each  of  the  insulated  rails,  carrying  connect 
ing  wires  from  the  bar-coil  to  the  dynamo,  part 
of  the  way  beneath  the  rocks  and  soil.  When 
all  was  nicely  tamped  down  and  smoothed  over, 
only  minute  inspection  would  have  disclosed 
the  extraordinary  conditions. 

Dippy  hesitated  through  two  days  before  he 
could  bring  himself  to  test  the  contrivance ;  but 
on  the  third  morning,  hearing  the  section  fore 
man  and  his  crew  pumping  their  car  along  the 
track,  he  threw  the  current  from  the  dynamo 
into  the  coil  and  rails.  Covertly  watching  for 
results,  he  saw  the  hand-car  strike  the  mag- 


354          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

netized  rails  and  stop  so  suddenly  that  the  men 
were  pitched  from  the  car.  Instantly  he 
touched  a  lever,  throwing  the  track-magnet 
out  of  the  dynamo  circuit.  The  section  men 
looked  about  for  the  obstruction,  and,  seeing 
absolutely  nothing,  gazed  at  each  other  in 
amazement.  Finally  they  mounted  the  car  and 
pumped  ahead,  talking  of  things  supernatural 
and  furtively  glancing  about  as  if  fearful  of 
discovering  a  ghost.  Dippy  tried  the  contriv 
ance  on  a  freight-train  that  stopped  at  the  tank 
for  water,  with  the  result  that  the  engineer  ex 
perienced  great  difficulty  in  getting  his  train 
in  motion,  though  the  track  was  slightly  down 
grade.  Then  came  the  affair  of  Ball  Bridge. 

Near  the  middle  of  October  there  fell  a  week 
in  which,  by  night  and  day,  the  mountain  heads 
of  the  inner  range  were  webbed  with  clouds. 
Black  and  wet  the  vapor-masses  clung  to  the 
peaks,  dissolving  in  rain.  Through  every  cleft 
and  canyon  streams  roared;  the  Little  Bear 
Paw,  the  Pecos  and  a  thousand  rivulets  frothed 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  355 

into  the  Big  Bear  Paw  until  the  broad  water 
way,  full  from  bank  to  bank,  became  a  seething 
torrent.  Dippy,  living  on  the  mountain's  base 
above  it,  through  two  nights  heard  the  noise  of 
its  tumult  and  through  two  days  looked  down 
upon  its  turbulence,  and  then  he  began  to  grow 
uneasy.  Several  times  he  went  down  to  the 
great  bridge  and  walked  out  upon  the  long 
structure.  The  flooding  waters  had  risen  to 
within  four  or  five  feet  of  the  bridge  track, 
boiling  around  the  piers  in  slavering  turmoil, 
yellowish,  clotted  with  masses  of  dirty  froth, 
and  full  of  battering  logs  and  whirling  tree- 
tops.  At  times,  standing  on  the  bridge,  Dippy 
felt  unpleasant  tremors  thrill  through  the 
structure.  Surely  the  solid  stone  piers,  held 
down  by  the  great  weight  of  the  iron  super 
structure,  would  withstand  any  pressure  the 
flood  might  pit  against  them!  So  long  as  the 
water  and  its  burden  of  debris  passed  beneath 
the  spans,  doubtless  the  structure  was  safe. 
But,  should  the  flood  swell  until  logs  and  tree- 


356          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

tops,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  hurrying  stuff 
should  batter  and  bank  against  the  bridge  and 
be  pushed  on  by  ten  thousand  tons  of  angry 
water,  what  then? 

Throughout  the  first  three  days  of  rain  the 
human  forces  employed  on  the  West  End 
quickened  with  apprehension.  Boadmaster 
Payne  came  up  from  Manzano  with  the  work 
train,  looking  after  earthslides  back  in  the 
range,  and  Superintendent  Burke  came  over 
from  Paley  Fork,  on  the  Middle  Division,  and 
passed  on  down  to  Manzano,  inspecting  bridges 
and  culverts  as  he  went.  Eeporting  by  wire 
to  President  Sanborn  in  Denver,  he  said  there 
was  peril  at  several  points,  but  that,  if  the  rain 
should  cease  soon,  all  would  be  well.  Though 
delayed  the  trains  still  ran. 

But  the  rain  did  not  cease.  Throughout  the 
fourth  night  the  black  empire  of  inner  peaks 
rocked  with  bellowing  thunder  and  was  washed 
with  a  heavier  deluge.  The  next  morning  the 
Big  Bear  Paw  was  foaming  against  the  main 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  357 

stringers  of  Ball  Bridge,  by  ten  o  'clock  its  flood 
was  lipping  the  track,  and  the  half-million- 
dollar  structure,  stanch  as  engineers  and  steel- 
workers  could  fashion  it,  shook  under  the  ram 
ming  blows  of  debris  and  pushing  waters.  The 
section  foreman  hurried  down  to  the  telegraph 
office  at  Eapids  Gulch,  six  miles  below,  with  a 
message  for  the  roadmaster's  office,  and  Dippy 
Hamilton  wired,  with  halting  and  laborious 
care,  the  situation  to  the  despatcher  at  Man- 
zano. 

"  Ball  Bridge  is  in  danger,"  he  said; 
"  water  up  to  track,  logs  and  stuff  jamming; 
send  help." 

Burke  ordered  Hoxie  to  get  five  locomotives 
ready  and  rush  them  at  once  to  the  bridge;  he 
telegraphed  Chief  Manvell,  at  Paley  Fork,  to 
hold  west-bound  freight-trains,  wherever  they 
might  be,  and  send  their  engines  forthwith  to 
the  point  of  supreme  peril.  "  I  want  at  least 
ten  engines  on  that  bridge  by  four  o'clock  this 
afternoon,"  his  message  concluded.  That 


358          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

meant,  approximately,  one  million,  eight  hun 
dred  thousand  pounds  of  additional  pressure 
upon  the  abutments.  Surely  that  would  hold 
the  bridge  down,  however  violently  the  Big 
Bear  Paw  might  push  against  it.  From  end  to 
end  the  division  thrilled  with  effort  through 
several  hours,  but  at  two  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon  its  forces  paused  in  consternation.  Ten 
miles  below  Ball  Bridge  the  river  had  cut  into 
the  right  of  way  until  a  hundred  yards  of  track 
slipped  sidewise,  ready  to  fall  into  the  flood. 
Hoxie's  five  engines  were  south  of  this  point 
and  could  not  cross.  Burke  was  with  the  en 
gines.  He  boarded  one  of  the  locomotives  and 
whirled  back  to  Broad  Bend  Station,  three 
miles  below,  and  hit  the  road  with  the  wire  at 
several  points.  Manvell's  engines,  he  learned, 
had  struck  a  washout  at  the  east  base  of  the 
range  and  could  proceed  no  further.  Jim 
Ewell,  with  a  west-bound  freight-train,  was  at 
Horselip,  half-way  down  the  west  side  of  the 
range,  and  Eoadmaster  Payne,  with  his  work 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  359 

train,  was  strengthening  a  trestle  over  a  creek 
two  miles  west  of  Horselip. 

When  Payne  brought  his  train  to  the  siding 
at  Horselip,  to  let  Ewell  pass,  he  received  an 
order  from  Burke  to  take  EwelPs  engine  and 
his  own,  with  all  of  EwelPs  loaded  cars  and 
sufficient  of  the  work  train  flats,  loaded  with 
stone,  to  make  a  train  of  about  forty  cars,  and 
to  proceed  to  Ball  Bridge  and  get  the  train 
upon  that  imperiled  structure  with  all  speed. 

Hurried  work  began.  By  four  o  'clock  Payne 
and  Ewell,  with  a  train  of  thirty-eight  loaded 
cars,  double-headed  by  the  two  engines,  started 
down  the  range  for  the  Big  Bear  Paw.  All 
night  and  throughout  the  morning  they  had 
been  in  the  rain,  and  now  the  mountainsides 
heaved  and  tossed  with  blowing  rags  of  fog, 
clumps  of  pines  upon  the  lifted  heights 
breathed  hoarsely,  glimpsing  black-green 
through  flapping  veils  of  vapor,  every  crevice 
dripped,  every  gully  babbled  with  falling 
water,  and  all  was  unstable,  —  indistinct, — 


360          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

perilous.  At  many  points  the  road-bed  was 
soft,  and  everywhere  the  track  was  wet  and 
slippery,  yet  a  very  fury  of  haste  was  de 
manded  by  the  situation ;  if  Ball  Bridge  should 
fall  it  would  mean  a  practical  suspension  of 
traffic  for  weeks. 

The  long  train  moved  down  the  continually 
falling  grade,  gathering  speed  and  momentum 
as  it  rolled.  Every  man's  face  was  grave. 
Water  spurted  from  under  the  soggy  ties,  as 
the  train  swept  over  them,  the  wheels  cut 
through  streaks  of  mud  that  covered  the  rails, 
the  engine  pilots  were  daubed  with  soil  and 
clinkered  with  gravel,  and  the  boiler-heads 
were  spattered  with  filth. 

Seven  miles  downward  from  Horselip  the 
first  disaster  fell.  As  the  train  swept  around 
a  curve,  the  track  slued  under  the  rear  cars, 
and  the  caboose  snapped  its  coupling  and 
turned  half-over.  In  the  caboose  were  Payne 
and  Ewell  and  most  of  the  men.  The  engines 
bellowed  for  brakes  and  used  air,  but  the  train 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   361 

scarcely  slackened  at  all.  Dick  Sunday,  of  the 
second  engine,  threw  his  drivers  on  the  back 
turn,  and  the  head  of  the  right-hand  cylin 
der  blew  out.  Instantly  both  engines  were 
wreathed  in  hot  steam.  Sunday's  fireman 
jumped,  but  Dick  shut  off  and  stuck  to  his  post, 
while  the  train  roared  onward.  A  brakeman, 
back  on  the  train,  set  several  hand  brakes, 
and  then,  panic-stricken  and  addled,  jumped 
down  a  muddy  bank. 

At  Tunnel  Fourteen  the  train  struck  a 
sharper  grade  and  quickened  its  appalling 
speed.  Bert  Samuels,  engineer  of  the  head  loco 
motive,  his  fireman,  and  Sunday,  of  the  second 
engine,  began  to  despair  of  checking  the 
wheeled  avalanche.  At  the  roots  of  their  hair 
and  along  their  nerves  began  to  creep  a  frost 
of  terror  and  panic.  That  peril,  a  train  lost  to 
control,  the  most  frequent  and  most  feared  of 
all  disasters  in  mountain  railroading,  was  upon 
them.  Like  the  waters  of  the  canyons,  and  im 
pelled  by  the  same  omnipotent  law,  the  train 


362          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

was  rushing  toward  lower  ground,  wildly  flying 
in  search  of  natural  equilibrium  and  normal 
rest. 

Wreathed  in  thunder,  they  crashed  through 
the  cuts,  the  engines  bellowed  like  excited 
hounds,  and  the  mountain  walls  reverberated 
with  hammering  echoes.  The  likelihood  of  the 
train  leaving  the  track  and  splintering  in  ruin 
ous  confusion  was  constant,  and,  should  it  re 
main  on  the  rails  and  strike  Ball  Bridge  while 
going  at  such  lawless  speed,  what  would  hap 
pen?  If  it  should  pass  Ball  Bridge  safely, 
then,  ten  miles  below,  the  whole  fabric  would 
certainly  plunge  into  the  river.  The  operator 
at  Horselip  had  told  the  men  of  the  washout 
that  baffled  Hoxie  and  his  engines.  Then,  too, 
what  if  Ball  Bridge  had  already  fallen !  Each 
engine,  and  every  car  in  the  runaway  train, 
seemed  in  a  transport  of  angry  fear ;  to  plunge 
into  the  Big  Bear  Paw  with  these  wheeled  mon 
sters  was  an  appalling  prospect.  Three  miles 
below  Tunnel  Fourteen  engineer  Sunday  and 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  363 

Samuels 's  fireman  quit  the  train.  Samuels 
stuck  to  the  throttle  until  within  a  mile  of  the 
Ball  Bridge  tank,  when  he,  too,  jumped.  There 
were  numerous  lame  and  injured  men  along 
the  line  of  the  special's  historic  flight,  but  no 
one  had  found  death.  As  for  Ball  Bridge  and 
the  train,  —  well,  there  was  Dippy  Hamilton 
and  his  crazy  contrivance  down  at  the  tank, 
alert,  but,  seemingly,  as  things  of  succor,  in 
significant. 

Dippy  had  been  up  all  night;  several  times, 
with  lantern  in  hand,  he  had  gone  down  to  the 
bridge,  and,  standing  in  the  stormy  darkness, 
had  listened  to  the  battering  and  rasping  and 
splashing  that  rose  about  the  structure.  The 
mountain  region  was  wild  and  lonely,  the  spirit 
of  the  night  inexpressibly  daunting.  With  the 
coming  of  day  he  saw  the  river  swollen  to 
greater  height  and  the  probability  augmented 
almost  to  certainty  of  the  bridge  giving  way 
before  the  increasing  flood.  Wet  to  the  skin, 
he  had  gone  to  and  fro  during  the  day,  agi- 


364          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

tated,  his  mind  wheeling  from  one  vain  project 
to  another,  crying  out  within  himself  for  help. 
A  little  after  four  o'clock  he  came  into  the 
small  house  where  he  ate  and  slept,  and  stood 
listening  to  the  telegraph  instrument.  Some 
one  on  the  wire  was  calling  him;  he  an 
swered,  and  the  operator  at  Tunnel  Fourteen 
said: 

'  '  Big  special  with  two  engines,  going  down  to 
get  on  Ball  Bridge,  is  running  away;  went  by 
here  like  h — ;  look  out  for  yourself,  and,  if 
section  men  or  any  one  else  working  on  track, 
get  them  out  of  the  way." 

Dippy 's  nerves  suddenly  tightened  like  taut 
harp-strings,  his  face  became  white,  and  his 
brown  eyes  widened  and  were  touched  with 
glistening  red.  He  leaped  out  the  door  and 
into  the  pump-house,  set  the  engine  going,  con 
nected  the  dynamo,  and  threw  the  current  into 
the  track-magnet,  that  oddest  one,  as  yet,  of 
all  his  "  fool  dreams." 

Hardly  was   the  apparatus  charged  before 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   365 

the  supreme  moment  was  upon  him.  For  a 
little  space  the  forerunning  herald  of  the 
train's  approach  was  as  the  noise  of  a  far- 
falling  cataract,  and  then  there  was  thunder  in 
the  valley  of  the  Big  Bear  Paw.  Dippy  sprang 
out  of  the  door  of  the  pump-house  and  ran 
some  three  hundred  feet  eastward  along  the 
track.  He  drew  back  a  little  from  the  rails  and 
waited,  half -crouching,  his  fingers  working,  and 
his  eyes  like  those  of  an  excited  cat.  As  things 
gone  mad,  the  linked  monsters  came  down  from 
the  mountains,  riderless,  yet  hastening  wildly 
under  the  invisible  lash  of  gravitation.  For 
nearly  a  mile  before  the  water-tank  was 
reached  the  track  along  the  river  was  but 
slightly  down  grade;  that  was  a  factor  work 
ing  toward  salvation;  yet  the  train  came  on 
ward  swiftly,  a  black-headed,  brown-bodied 
reptile  of  Titanic  girth,  swaying  and  wrinkling 
all  its  hurrying  sections. 

Dippy  suddenly  felt  the  smitten  air  crushing 
him  back  and  the  solid  earth  quaking,  and  then 


366          THE   DIAMOND    KEY 

the  first  engine  struck  the  magnetized  rails. 
There  was  a  hammering  crash  of  all  the  draw- 
heads  as  the  engine-drivers  clutched  the  ener 
gized  steel,  and  Dippy  looked  to  see  the  rails 
torn  up,  the  cars  buckle  into  the  air,  and  him 
self  crushed  under  the  hurling  mass;  but  the 
weight  of  the  engines  held  the  track  to  its  bed, 
the  front  engine  received  a  pull  downward, 
and,  practically,  backward,  that  amounted  to 
tons  of  resistance,  then  it  passed  beyond  the 
sphere  of  magic,  and  the  second  engine  was 
crossing  the  clutching  mystery.  At  that  Dippy, 
white  and  burning  in  every  fibre,  leaped  at  the 
iron  ladder  of  one  of  the  rear  cars  and,  grasp 
ing  it,  scrambled  to  the  top.  Thrilling  with 
vivid  realization  of  the  import  of  the  moment, 
he  began  swiftly  setting  the  hand  brakes,  twist 
ing  them  up  until  the  gritty  brake-shoes  tore 
wreaths  of  fire  from  the  wheels.  Leaping  from 
car  to  car,  he  felt  them  rock  and  quiver  as  the 
hurling  power  of  the  whole  fabric  was  taken 
in  leash.  Beneath  him  there  was  hissing  and 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC   367 

rasping  and  the  clang  of  drawheads,  as  the 
train 's  three  hundred  wheels  were  in  rapid 
succession  gripped  and  released  by  the  invis 
ible  clutch  of  the  energized  rails,  and  then  the 
train  was  beyond  the  great  magnet  and  ap 
proaching  the  bridge. 

Eight  flat  cars  loaded  with  stone  were  near 
the  centre  of  the  train.  Here  obstruction  of  the 
air  had  occurred.  Scrambling  over  the  stone 
and  setting  the  hand  brakes  as  he  progressed, 
Dippy  reached  the  front  loaded  box  cars,  and, 
filled  with  a  sense  of  wild  power,  twisted  the 
brakes  up  until  the  cars  reeled.  Slowly  the 
train  slackened,  and  then  suddenly  the  fire 
boxes  roared  and  the  hot  wheels  were  splash 
ing  in  water.  The  engines,  wreathed  in  steam, 
plowed  slowly  through  a  dangling  line  of 
broken  stuff,  the  trembling  bridge  felt  nearly 
three  million  pounds  suddenly  crush  it  solidly 
upon  the  piers  and  the  mad  waters  of  the  Big 
Bear  Paw  gurgled  helplessly  around  the 
wheels. 


368          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

Looking  up  from  his  straining  twist  of  the 
last  brake,  Dippy  saw  the  flood  about  him.  The 
nose  of  the  front  engine  was  within  a  rod  of 
the  western  shore  and  the  bulk  of  the  train 
stood  squarely  on  the  bridge.  He  put  a  hand 
to  his  throat  and  for  a  moment  stood  gasping, 
then  his  mouth  opened  with  a  yell,  the  tri 
umphant  shout  of  one  who  puts  great  and  re 
bellious  elements  under  his  feet  and  holds  them. 

Twenty  minutes  later  Dippy  ticked  a  laconic 
message  to  the  despatcher  at  Manzano.  It  sim 
ply  said:  "  Train  on  bridge;  will  stick. " 

The  despatcher  relayed  the  message  to  Burke 
at  Broad  Bend.  Burke  read  the  wire,  and, 
puckering  his  lips  in  his  beard,  whistled  in  as 
tonishment.  At  nine  o'clock  that  night  he  en 
tered  the  pump-house  at  the  Ball  Bridge  tank, 
having  made  part  of  the  journey  on  foot  and 
part  in  a  hand-car.  He  grasped  Dippy 's  hand 
and  held  it,  and  the  two  looked  into  each 
other's  eyes. 

"  How  did  you  do  it,  boy?    How,  in  heaven's 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  369 

name,  did  you  do  it?  "  demanded  the  superin 
tendent. 

A  smile  crept  around  Dippy 's  mouth.  "  By 
muscle  and  magic,  about  half  and  half,  I 
guess/'  he  said,  quietly. 

Burke  glanced  around  the  place,  at  the  en 
gine  and  little  dynamo  and  the  wires  leading 
toward  the  track. 

"  They  energize  —  in  fact,  make  a  magnet, 
—  of  two  of  the  rails, ' '  said  Dippy. 

Burke  gazed  at  the  youth  fixedly  a  long  time. 
His  keen  eyes  seemed  to  ask  a  hundred  ques 
tions. 

66  Yes,"  said  Dippy. 

"  See  here,  you  come  over  to  Paley  Fork  as 
soon  as  things  are  straightened  out;  I  want 
you,"  said  Burke,  decisively. 

"I'd  rather  go  down  to  Manzano,  for  the 
present;  Jack  Morton  and  —  and  Violet,  his 
daughter,  are  there,"  Dippy  ventured. 

Burke  looked  at  him  a  moment  longer.  ' '  All 
right!  "  he  said,  "  When  I  have  time  I'll  in- 


370          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

vestigate  you.  I  think  you're  wanted  in  our 
department  of  experimental  engineering  in 
Denver/' 

That  was  where  Dippy  landed,  and  there  he 
succeeded  admirably,  though  just  how  far  his 
strange  idea  of  traction  magnetism  will  eventu 
ally  affect  his  own  and  the  future  of  mankind 
has  not  yet  been  fully  demonstrated.  Two  im 
portant  things  promised  by  the  situation  cer 
tainly  did  come  true:  Dippy  Hamilton  was 
decorated  with  a  Diamond  Key,  and  both  he 
and  Violet  now  call  Jack  Morton  "  Dad." 

The  banquet  given  Dippy  Hamilton  by  Su 
perintendent  Burke  proved  to  be,  in  several 
particulars,  the  most  notable  of  all  our  festal 
occasions.  Every  person  who  had  been  hon 
ored  with  a  Diamond  Key  was  present,  also 
President  Sanborn  and  his  son  Clark  and  sev 
eral  of  the  directors  from  Denver.  The  ban 
quet-room  of  the  Lyon  House  was  wreathed 
with  flowers,  on  the  wall  back  of  the  first  table 
glowed  a  great  key,  fashioned  of  electric 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  371 

globes,  and  at  a  big,  round  table  near  the 
centre  of  the  room!  sat  eight  embarrassed  but 
smiling  people,  each  of  whom  wore  a  Diamond 
Key.  At  this  table  Burke  had  caused  ten 
chairs  to  be  placed.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
banquet  we  remarked  that  two  of  the  chairs 
were  unoccupied.  In  the  centre  of  this  table 
stood  a  mimic  locomotive,  made  by  Muggins 
Tarney,  grouped  about  with  telegraph  instru 
ments  and  garnished  with  roses.  The  re 
mainder  of  the  great  room  was  crowded  with 
tables  and  smiling,  expectant  people. 

Superintendent  Burke  made  a  most  felicitous 
speech,  illuminating  with  brilliant  touches  all 
that  he  had  said  on  former  occasions  in  praise 
of  heroism.  Some  of  the  things  he  said  cling 
in  my  memory.  "  Sow  an  act  and  you  reap  a 
habit.  Sow  a  habit  and  you  reap  a  character. 
Sow  a  character  and  you  reap  a  destiny, "  he 
quoted.  "  It  is  thus  with  those  who  grace  the 
round  table  in  our  midst,  in  achievements  as 
truly  entitled  to  honor  and  approval  as  were 


372          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

King  Arthur's  Knights  of  the  Bound  Table  in 
days  of  old.  Each  one  now  wearing  the  Dia 
mond  Key  sowed  an  act  of  moral  and  physical 
valor.  I  have  watched  them  since,  and  without 
question  they  have  reaped  the  habit  of  always 
doing  their  very  best,  a  habit  that  will  surely 
form  good  character  and  bring  high  destiny 
here  and  in  the  life  after  this.  We  all,  old  and 
young,  ought  to  learn  this  habit  that  we  too 
may  reap  good  destiny."  We  applauded  this 
heartily,  as  may  easily  be  believed.  Then  the 
superintendent  eulogized  Dippy  Hamilton,  and 
pinning  the  Diamond  Key  upon  the  embar 
rassed  youth's  breast,  led  him  to  the  round 
table  and  seated  him  in  one  of  the  empty  chairs. 
A  storm  of  hand-clapping  followed. 

Next  the  superintendent  turned  toward  Pres 
ident  Sanborn.  "  Sir,"  he  said,  "  I  believe 
your  son  eminently  entitled  to  the  Diamond 
Key.  By  great  effort,  indeed  almost  at  the 
cost  of  his  life,  he  stuck  to  the  maul  and  shovel, 
and,  through  the  fire-box  of  the  1206,  saved  the 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  373 

Fast  Mail.  Because  he  is  your  son,  son  of  the 
president  of  the  road,  you  have  advised  against 
his  decoration,  arguing  that  it  might  be  thought 
a  matter  of  partiality  and  due  to  official  favor 
itism.  I  beg  leave  to  take  a  different  view. 
High  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  no  matter  who  one 
may  be,  if  he  achieve  the  heroic  on  the  Western 
Central,  the  Diamond  Key  is  his.  Therefore, 
in  recognition  of  duty  supremely  well  done,  I 
pin  this  badge  of  distinction  upon  the  breast 
of  Clark  Sanborn." 

When  the  key  was  fastened  he  led  Clark  to 
the  round  table  amid  wild  applause  and  seated 
him.  When  the  noise  had  subsided  Clark 
arose,  and  looking  around  the  table,  at  Ruth 
Patten,  Park  Taylor,  Freckle  Hogan,  Dreamy 
Meadows,  Wadd  Hancock,  Dippy  Hamilton, 
Nectarine  Morgan,  Joey  Phillips,  and  Muggins 
Tarney,  bowed  to  them  with  grave  respect. 
There  was  something  very  like  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

"  This  is  the  greatest  honor  that  has  come 


374          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

to  me  thus  far  in  my  life,  to  be  counted  one  of 
this  band  of  heroes,"  he  said.  "  And  the 
greatest  honor  I  look  forward  to  is  to  person 
ally  honor  myself  in  being  true  to  the  idea 
underlying  this  Diamond  Key.  Mr.  Burke,  I 
thank  you;  comrades  of  the  Diamond  Key,  I 
salute  you." 

That  indeed  brought  from  us  a  joyous  racket 
of  approval,  but  hardly  so  overwhelming  in 
volume  as  was  produced  by  a  surprising  thing 
that  followed.  Hardly  had  Clark  taken  his 
seat  before  President  Sanborn  arose.  His  face 
was  all  aglow. 

/  "I  am  gratified,  extremely  gratified  by  what 
has  just  taken  place,"  he  said,  "  but  these  at 
the  centre  table,  much  as  I  honor  them,  must 
not  be  thought  the  only  heroes  of  the  Western 
Central.  These  are  only  the  most  conspicuous 
doers  of  great  things.  Every  man  doing  his 
part  in  the  dangerous  business  of  moving 
trains  over  these  mountains,  trackmen  and 
telegraph  operators  faithfully  doing  their  duty 


DIPPY  HAMILTON'S  MAGIC  375 

at  section  houses  and  isolated  stations  in  lonely 
canyons,  men  skilfully  handling  the  machinery 
in  shops,  train  despatchers  bending  under  fear 
ful  responsibility  over  train-sheets,  all,  so  they 
do  their  work  well,  in  a  sense  are  heroes.  But 
the  chief  man  in  pushing  this  great  enterprise 
to  success,  both  in  building  the  line  and  operat 
ing  it,  surely  that  man  is  also  a  hero.  In  view 
of  this  fact  I  have  personally  brought  a  Dia 
mond  Key  for  Ames  Burke,  and  I  delegate 
little  Muggins  Tarney,  one  of  the  smallest 
of  heroes,  to  pin  it  upon  the  breast  of  one  of 
the  greatest. " 

We  came  near  taking  the  roof  off  at  that. 
Ruth  Patten  led  Muggins  over  to  the  superin 
tendent,  who,  blushing  like  a  bride,  stooped  to 
receive  the  badge.  When,  with  Ruth's  aid,  it 
was  properly  adjusted,  he  kissed  and  squeezed 
the  frightened  Muggins  amid  thunderous  ap 
plause. 

"  Now,"  went  on  President  Sanborn,  "  since 
those  wearing  the  Diamond  Key  number  eleven, 


376          THE    DIAMOND    KEY 

including  the  General  Manager  of  the  road  — 
Mr.  Burke  having  been  promoted  to  that  posi 
tion  at  a  meeting  of  the  directors  last  night  — 
I,  as  chief  officer  of  the  company,  pronounce  the 
wearers  of  the  Diamond  Key  an  Order,  a 
brotherhood  of  heroes  recognized  and  recogniz 
ing  each  other  as  such,  with  power  to  elect 
officers  and  add  new  members  from  time  to 
time.  Gentlemen,  ladies,  I  propose  that  we 
drink  a  toast  in  the  pure  water  of  these  Colo 
rado  Mountains  —  a  beverage  delightful  and 
intoxicating  enough  for  any  man  —  a  wish  for 
the  health  and  long  life  of  each  member  of  the 
Order  of  the  Diamond  Key,  and  that  this 
worthy  brotherhood  may  grow." 

We  one  and  all  arose  to  our  feet,  and  a  hun 
dred  lifted  glasses  of  water  sparkled  on  high 
as  we  cheered.  Thus  was  the  Order  of  the  Dia 
mond  Key  created  and  established  on  the 
Western  Central. 

THE  END. 


Young  Heroes  of  Wire  and  Rail 

By  ALVAH  MILTON  KERR 
Illustrated  by  H.  C.  EDWARDS,  J.  C.  LEYENDECKER,  and  otkerf 


12mo        Cloth        Price  $1.25 


YOUNG  HEROES  2/ 
WIRE  AND  RAIL 

ALVAH  MILTON  KERK 


This  is  a  book  of  wonderfully  vivid  stories  of 
railroad  life,  portraying  the  heroism  of  trainmen, 
telegraph  operators,  and  despatchers,  each  story 
a  complete  drama  in  itself,  with  thrilling  climax, 
and  yet  too  truthful  to  be  classed  as  sensational. 
It  is  by  Alvah  Milton  Kerr,  formerly  a  train- 
despatcher  of  long  experience,  and  now  a  justly 
noted  writer  of  railroad  stories,  who  has  brought 
together  from  many  sources  the  most  striking 
acts  of  heroism  performed  during  the  last  quar 
ter  of  a  century  of  railroad  activity,  and  has  cast 
them  in  stories  of  singularly  intense  interest. 

Most  of  these  stories  first  appeared  in 
"  McClure's  Magazine,"  "  The  Youth's  Com 
panion,"  "  Philadelphia  Saturday  Evening  Post " 
and  "  Success ; "  which  fact  is  a  very  strong  guarantee  of  merit.  No 
one  who  begins  reading  these  stories  in  this  finely  printed,  illustrated, 
and  bound  book  will  be  likely  to  allow  anything  to  interfere  with  their 
completion. 

"  An  ideal  book  for  a  young  boy  is  l  Young  Heroes  of  Wire  and  Rail,'  and, 
indeed,  the  older  folks  who  begin  to  read  will  continue  to  the  end."  —  Episcopal 
Recorder,  Philadelphia. 

"  The  tone  of  the  work  is  healthful  and  inspiring."  —  Boston  Herald. 

"  They  teach  more  bravery,  unselfishness  and  forethought  in  a  page 
be  imparted  in  an  hour  of  'ethical'  instruction  in  school."  —  New  Yo 

"  The  tone  of  the  stories  is  fine,  showing  unexpected  bravery  and  courage  in 
many  of  the  characters."  —  Delineator,  New  York~ 

"  A  book  that  not  only  yields  entertainment  and  healthy  excitement,  but 
reveals  some  of  the  possibilities  always  confronting  railroad  workers  and  train 
despatchers."  —  Christian  Register,  Boston. 

"  They  are  calculated  to  inspire  boys  to  become  manly,  and  incidentally  they 
contain  considerable  valuable  information."  — Newark  News. 


than  can 
'ork  Times. 


For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publishers. 


LOTHROP,  LEE  &  SHEPARD  CO.,  Boston 


TWO  YOUNG  INVENTORS 


TWO  YOUNG 
INVENTORS 

ALVAH  MJLTON  K£«» 


THE  STORY  OF  THE  FLYING   BOAT 

BY  ALVAH   MILTON  KERR     Illus 
trated    $1.25 

HERE  is  a  rattling  good  story;  a  tale  of 
mystery,  mechanism,  and  getting  on  in 
the  world  that  will  be  a  boy's  favorite  for  years. 
Two  youths,  both  born  inventors,  make  each 
other's  acquaintance  as  a  result  of  misfortunes 
attending  a  Minnesota  cyclone.  Their  efforts  to 
perfect  a  flying-boat  that  shall  not  only  skim  the 
water,  but  rise  into  the  air,  result  in  the  securing 
of  a  mechanical  education.  Mr.  Kerr  has 
solved  the  problem  of  a  book  that  shall  be 
intensely  exciting  and  yet  thoroughly  wholesome. 

"The  ingenuity  and  pluck  of  these  two  worthy  heroes  supply  just  the  right 
material  for  the  encouragement  of  ambitious  youth."  —  Boston  Beacon. 

"  The  book  is  full  of  life,  incident,  and  stirring  success." —  Watchman,  Boston. 

*'  The  book  i*  deeply  interesting,  at  times  intensely  exciting,  and  yet  thoroughly 
clean  and  wholesome  throughout."  —  Portland  Express. 

YOING  HEROES  OF  WIRE  AND  RAIL 

BY  ALVAH  MILTON   KERR     Illus 
trated     I2mo    Cloth     $1.25 

'TTHE  place  which  the  sea  once  held  in  sup- 
J[  plying  thrilling  tales  of  heroism  and  peril 
is  now  being  largely  usurped  by  that  powerful 
agent  of  progress,  the  railway  service,  and  with 
no  lessening  of  interest.  It  is  also  very  attrac 
tive  to  know  how  those  who  bear  the  vast 
responsibilities  of  this  service  perform  their 
work  and  meet  the  fearful  emergencies  that 
may  arise  at  any  time. 

"  The  tone  of  the  work  is  healthful  and  inspiring."  — 
Boston  Herald. 

"They  are  calculated  to  inspire  boys  to  become  manly,  and  incidentally  tney 
contain  considerable  valuable  information."  —  Newark  Ne-ws. 

"  An  ideal  book  for  a  young  boy  is  '  Young  Heroes  of  Wire  and  Rail.' "  — 
Episcopal  Recorder ',  Philadelphia. 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publishers, 

LOTHROP,    LEE    &    SHEPARD    CO.,    BOSTON 


YOUNG  HEROES  2/ 
WIRE  AND  RAIL 

ALVAH  MILTON  KERB 


MISS     BILLY 

A      NEIGHBORHOOD       STORY 

By   EDITH    K.    STOKELY    and    MARIAN    K.    HURD 

Illustrated  by  CHARLES   COPELAND 

I2mo   Cloth    1.50 

"VflSS  BILLY"  deserves  more  than  passing 
notice  in  these  days  of  civic  improvement. 
It  is  a  story  of  what  an  irrepressible  young  woman 
accomplished  in  the  neighborhood  into  which  her 
family  felt  obliged  to  move  for  financial  reasons. 
The  street  was  almost  as  unpromising  as  the  celebrated 
"  Cabbage  Patch,"  and  its  characters  equally  inter 
esting  and  original.  The  happy  common-sense  of 
Miss  Billy  and  the  quaint  sayings  and  doings  of 
her  new  neighbors  form  a  capital  story. 

"The  story  abounds  in  humor  with  a  hint  of  tears  and  an  over 
flowing  kindness  of  heart  bubbling  over  in  infectious  gayety." 

—  Boston  Herald. 

"The   book   is  sure   to   have   an  immense  number  of  readers." 

—  St.  Louis  Star. 

uThe  plan  of  the  tale  is  original,  the  conversation  very  bright  and 
witty,    the    style    smooth,  and   the  characters  true  to  life." 

—  Boston    J^ranscript. 

ult  is  a  human  interest  story  which  appeals  to  the  heart,  and  at 
one  juncture  to  the  eyes  of  the  sympathetic  readers." 

— Pittsburg  Chronicle    Telegraph. 

"  'Miss  Billy'  is  a  charmingly  bright,  clever  little  story,  full  of 
spontaneous  humor  and  frankly  inspirational." 

—  Chicago  Daily  News. 

"This  is  an  ideal  story."  — N.    Y.    Times. 

Cotbrop,  Cee  §  Sbcpard  go.  *  *  Boston 


Cl)e  Hoss  of  Etttle 


By  HARRY  LEON  WILSON      Full  page  and  text  illus 
trations  by  ROSE  CECIL  O'NEILL        izrno  Cloth  $1.50 


BOSS,"  whose  title  has  been  bestowed 
partly  in  jest,  is  the  editor  of  a  weekly  paper 
of  a  typical  village  in  the  Middle  West.  The  real 
hero  of  the  book  is  his  staunch  friend,  though  his 
rival  in  love.  The  story  is  told  by  the  friend,  who 
left  the  village  at  the  call  of  the  Civil  War,  returning 
as  Major  to  resume  his  law  practice  and  to  figure  in 
a  delightfully  told  romance.  The  humor  is  every 
where  present  and  of  a  very  high  order. 

SOME      PRESS      OPINIONS 

u  'The  Boss  of  Little  Arcady'  is  one  to  be  enjoyed  in 
every  page  for  its  genuine  humor,  its  sly  satire  without  a 
touch  of  malice,  and  the  story  of  love  and  friendship  which 
runs  through  it  and  ends  happily."  —  Cleveland  Plain  Dealer. 
<(  'The  Boss  of  Little  Arcady'  is  clever,  with  a  cleverness 
that  is  not  forced,  and  with  a  crispness  that  seems  to  belong 
to  it  and  which  has  the  flavor  of  spontaneity." 

—  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"It  is  a  story  to  be  read  a  second  time;  if  not  wholly,  then 
in  part.  The  result  for  the  reader  is  one  of  the  best  things 
that  life  affords  —  a  book  that  delights,  quickens  the  sympa 
thies  and  revivifies  the  quiescent  good  in  one's  nature."  — 
Minneapolis  Journal. 

"Not  a  dull  line  in  it  from  cover  to  cover."  —  The  Advance, 
Chicago. 

"The  simpler  and  sweeter  things  of  life  hold  sway  in  Little 
Arcady  and  the  Boss  is  lovably  original."  —  Chicago 
Evening  Post. 

"Reading  this  story  is  like  living  among  people  whom  we 
hare  known  at  some  time  or  other,  and  the  charm  of  the 
book  is  in  its  character  descriptions.  It  is  one  of  the  best 
novels  of  the  year."  —  Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.  ^  Boston 


A  Daughter 
of  the  South 

By     GEORGE     CART    EGGLESTON 

Illustrated  by  E.  Pollak     Decorated  Cover,  $l.JO 

ATpNHE  action  of  the  story  lies  in  the  region  of  the 
lower  Mississippi  river,  from  Cairo  to  New 
Orleans,  and  its  time  is  the  period  near  the 
end  of  the  Civil  War,  after  the  great  river  was  opened 
to  navigation,  but  when  its  banks  and  bayous  were  still 
vexed  with  hostilities,  and  the  greedy  lawlessness  of 
speculators  who  gave  to  their  business  a  good  deal  of 
the  character  of  crime.  It  has  for  its  heroine  a  young 
woman  of  high  breeding  and  high  character,  proud, 
passionate  and  duty  loving,  a  woman  who  thinks  clear 
ly,  feels  strongly  and  acts  in  obedience  to  her  own 
convictions  without  any  shadow  of  fear  or  shrinking 
from  the  consequences  of  right  doing. 

"In  painting  Southern  romances,  George  Cary  Eggleston  is  at 
his  best,  and  his  latest  book,  'A  Daughter  of  the  South,'  has  the 
same  sweet,  pure  flavor  of  love  and  heroism  that  characterized  his 
popular  novel,  'Dorothy  South.'  " — St.  Paul  Dispatch. 

"It  is  a  charming  story,  full  of  delicacy  and  sweetness,  and  the 
picture  the  author  gives  of  the  closing  months  of  the  great  struggle 
is  well  drawn." — Brooklyn  Daily  Eagle. 

"As  pretty  a  talc  of  Southern  chivalry  and  Northern  devotion  as 
any  one  need  ask  to  read  is  'A  Daughter  of  the  South,'  with  its 
picture  of  wartime  conditions  which  no  Southerner  who  lired 
through  them  will  ever  forget. ' '  — Milwaukee  Free  Press. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard   Co. 


BOSTON 


Cbc  attic  green  Door 

By    MART    E.     STONE    B  AS  SETT 

Eight   illustrations    by  Louise    Clarke    and    twenty-five   decorative 

half-title  pages   by  Ethel  Pearce   Clements 

I2mo   Cloth   $1.50 

A  charming  romance  of  the  time  of 
Louis  XIII.  The  door  which 
gives  the  title  to  the  book  leads  to  a 
beautiful  retired  garden  belonging  to  the 
King.  In  this  garden  is  developed  one  of 
the  sweetest  and  tenderest  romances  ever 
told.  The  tone  of  the  book  is  singularly 
pure  and  elevated,  although  its  power  is 
intense. 


"This  is  a  tale  of  limpid  purity  and  sweetness,  which,  although 
its  action  is  developed  amid  the  intrigues  and  deceptions  of  a  corrupt 
French  court,  remains  fine  and  delicate  to  the  end.  There  is 
power  as  well  as  poetry  in  the  little  romance,  so  delicate  in  con 
ception." —  Chicago  Daily  News. 

"Tender,  sweet,  passionate,  pure  j  a  lily  from  the  garden  of 
loves . ' ' — Baltimore  Herald. 

"The  story  is  exquisitely  pure  and  tender,  possessing  a  finished 
daintiness  that  will  charm  all  clean-minded  persons." — Louisville 
Courier-Journal. 

"This  book  carries  with  it  all  the  exhilaration  of  a  beautiful 
nature,  of  flowers,  birds,  and  living  things,  and  the  beauty  of  a 
winsome  personality  of  a  pure,  beautiful  girl.  It  is  a  romance  en 
tirely  of  the  fancy,  but  a  refreshing  one." — Chicago  Tribune. 

1  'The  little  romance  is  charmingly  wrought,  and  will  be  sure  to 
find  its  way  to  the  heart  of  the  reader." — Boston  Transcript. 

Lothrop,   Lee  &  Shepard   Co. 

BOSTON 


The   Potter   and  the   Clay 

A  Romance  of  To-day 

By  MAUD  HOWARD  PETERSON.  Bound  in  blue  cloth, 
decorative  cover,  rough  edges,  gilt  top.  Four  drawings  by 
Charlotte  Harding.  Size,  5*7%.  Price  $1.50 


ONE  of  the  strongest  and  most  forceful  of  re 
cent  novels,  now  attracting  marked  attention, 
and  already  one  of  the  most  successful  books  of 
the  present  year.  The  characters  are  unique, 
the  plot  is  puzzling,  and  the  action  is  remarkably 
vivid.  Readers  and  critics  alike  pronounce  it  a 
romance  of  rare  strength  and  beauty.  The  scenes 
are  laid  in  America,  Scotland,  and  India ;  and  one 
of  the  most  thrilling  and  pathetic  chapters  in  re 
cent  fiction  is  found  in  Trevelyan's  heroic  self- 
sacrifice  during  the  heart-rending  epidemic  of 
cholera  in  the  latter  country.  The  story  through 
out  is  one  of  great  strength. 

Margaret  E.  Sangster :  "  From  the  opening 
chapter,  which  tugs  at  the  heart,  to  the  close, 
when  we  read  through  tears,  the  charm  of  the 
book  never  flags.  It  is  not  for  one  season,  but 
of  abiding  human  interest." 

Minot  J.  Savage :  "  I  predict  for  the  book  a  very 
large  sale,  and  for  the  authoress  brilliant  work 
in  the  future." 

Boston  Journal:  "  One  of  the  most  remarkable  books 
of  the  year.  Brilliant,  but  better  than  that, 
tender." 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co*,  Boston 


Cliveden 


By  KENYON  WEST.     J2mo.   Brown  cloth,  rough  edges. 
Price,  $1.50. 


"  ^'LIVEDEN"  is  an  historical  romance  by  Kenyon 
^•^  West,  favorably  known  as  the  author  of  sev 
eral  books  of  fiction  and  criticism.  The  story  — 
which  is  quick  in  action,  picturesque  in  scene,  and 
dramatic  in  situation  —  centres  in  the  famous  Chew 
House  in  Germantown,  during  the  Revolutionary 
War,  at  the  time  when  the  battles  of  Brandywine 
and  Germantown  were  being  fought,  and  the  British 
General  Howe  was  threatening  the  native  forces. 
Both  sides  of  the  struggle  are  represented,  the 
American  patriots  and  the  British  redcoats,  and  a 
charming  love-story  is  developed,  in  which  the 
principals  are  a  well-born  American  beauty  and  a 
British  officer  with  a  noble  character.  The  Chew 
residence  is  in  a  state  of  siege,  and  the  attempts 
of  a  British  spy  to  wreck  the  fortunes  of  General 
Washington,  who  is  only  a  few  miles  off,  make 
exciting  reading.  The  volume  is  given  an  appro 
priate  patriotic  dress. 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co*,  Boston 


On  The  Great  Highway 

The  Wanderings  and  Adventures  of  a 
Special   Correspondent 

By  JAMES  CREELMAN.  Red  Silk  Cloth,  Decorative 
Cover.  Size,  5  x  7#.  With  Nine  Illustrations.  Price, 
net,  $1.20;  postpaid,  $J.35. 


T.  DeWITT  TALMAGE,  D.D.,  says: 

"'On  the  Great  Highway,'  "  by  James  Creelman,  "is  a  book 
dramatic  and  unique.  No  other  man  could  have  written  it,  be 
cause  he  entered  doors  that  no  one  else  could  enter.  It  begins 
with  the  Pope's  benediction  and  ends  with  President  McKinley's 
departure.  Pathos  and  humor  and  vivid  portraiture  of  charac 
ter  abound.  It  will  be  called  for  as  rapidly  as  the  printing 
press  can  turn  it  out." 

JULIAN  HAWTHORNE  says  : 

"  It  is  memorable  both  as  literature  and  as  contemporary  his 
tory.  Nothing  else  in  the  same  line  so  authoritative,  so  perti 
nent,  so  vivid,  and  so  fascinating  has  been  published  within 
my  knowledge.  The  author,  with  extraordinary  gifts,  has  taken 
advantage  of  exceptional  opportunities,  and  the  result  is  a  book 
that  should  have  an  unprecedented  popularity." 

NEW  YORK  JOURNAL  says  : 

"  It  is  a  book  whose  perusal  will  repay  every  reader.  We 
take  pleasure  in  recommending  it  as  the  most  interesting  liter 
ary  production  of  recent  weeks." 

BOSTON  HERALD  says : 

"  The  book  is  at  once  an  invaluable  symposium  of  world 
opinions  and  a  truthful  panorama  of  world  pictures." 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


The   Lions  of  the   Lord 


By   HARRY    LEON   WILSON 

Author  of  "The  Spenders."  Six  illustrations  by  Rose  Cecil 
O'Neill,  bound  in  dark  green  cloth,  illustrated  cover,  i2mo. 
$\5o,  postpaid. 

In  his  romance  of  the  old  West,  "  The  Lions  of  the  Lord," 
Mr.  Wilson,  whose  "  The  Spenders  "  is  one  of  the  successes 
of  the  present  year,  shows  an  advance  in  strength  and  grasp 
both  in  art  and  life.  It  is  a  thrilling  tale  of  the  Mormon  set 
tlement  of  Salt  Lake  City,  with  all  its  grotesque  comedy, 
grim  tragedy,  and  import  to  American  civilization.  The 
author's  feeling  for  the  Western  scenery  affords  him  an 
opportunity  for  many  graphic  pen  pictures,  and  he  is  equally 
strong  in  character  and  in  description.  For  the  first  time  in 
a  novel  is  the  tragi-comedy  of  the  Mormon  development 
adequately  set  forth.  Nothing  fresher  or  more  vital  has 
been  produced  by  a  native  novelist. 

The   Spenders 

By   HARRY   LEON   WILSON 
70th  Thousand 

Author  of  "The  Lions  of  the  Lord."  Red  silk  cloth,  rough 
edges,  picture  cover.  Six  illustrations  by  Rose  Cecil 
O'Neill.  I2mo.  $1.50,  postpaid. 

Mark  Twain  writes  to  the  author :  "  It  cost  me  my  day 
yesterday.  You  owe  me  $400.  But  never  mind,  I  forgive 
you  for  the  book's  sake." 

Louisville  Courier-Journal  says :  "  If  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  the  American  novel  of  a  new  method,  this  is  one.  Abso 
lutely  to  be  enjoyed  is  it  from  the  first  page  to  the  last." 

Harry  Thttrston  Peck,  in  the  New  York  American,  says : 

"  The  very  best  two  books  written  by  Americans  during  the 
past  year  have  been  '  The  Spenders,'  by  Harry  Leon  Wilson, 
and  '  The  Pit,'  by  Frank  Norris." 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


Judith's   Garden 

By    MARY    E.   STONE    BASSETT 


With  illustrations  in  color  by  George  Wright  Text  printed 
in  two  colors  throughout,  with  special  ornamentation* 
8vo,  light  green  silk  cloth,  rough  edges,  gilt  top,  $  J.50 


A  N  exquisite,  delicious,  charming  book, 
as  fresh  as  new-mown  hay,  as  fragrant 
as  the  odor  from  the  garden  of  the  gods. 
It  is  the  story  of  a  garden,  a  woman,  and  a 
man.  The  woman  is  delicate  and  refined, 
witty,  and  interesting;  the  man  is  Irish, 
funny,  original,  happy,  —  a  delicious  and 
perfect  foil  to  the  woman.  His  brogue  is 
stunning,  and  his  wit  infectious  and  fetching. 
The  garden  is  quite  all  right.  There  is  move 
ment  in  the  book ;  life  is  abundant,  and  it 
attracts.  It  will  catch  the  interest  of  every 
lover  of  flowers,  —  and  their  name  is  legion, 
—  and  will  delight  and  comfort  every  reader. 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


SALLY, 
MRS.  TUBBS 


An  amusing  and  sympathetic  study  of  a  Ne<w  England 
woman  of  bumble  station,  but  noble  character. 

By  MARGARET  SIDNEY,  author  of  the  Famous  "  Pepper  " 
books,  etc. 


CHICAGO  RECORD-HERALD  says: 

What  can  be  said  is,  that  those  who  have  read  "  Mrs.  Wiggs  " 
will  purchase  "  Sally,  Mrs.  Tubbs."  The  author  of  this  pleasant 
story,  who  is  Margaret  Sidney  of  the  "  Pepper  "  books  renown, 
has  rightly  dedicated  this  tale  for  grown-ups  to  "  all  who  love 
simplicity,  truth,  and  cheerfulness."  These  virtues  characterize 
Sally  Plunkett,  whose  soul-devouring  ambition  was  "  to  have 
'Bijah  Tubbs  fer  life." 

As  a  chapter  out  of  human  life  "  Sally,  Mrs.  Tubbs  "  is,  per 
haps,  as  good  as  "  Mrs.  Wiggs."  Regarded  artistically,  it  shows 
the  workmanship  of  a  more  practised  hand;  it  has  a  plot,  and 
this  plot  pleasantly  complicated,  and  thus  differs  from  its  next 
of  kin.  We  judge  that  Sally  and  her  'Bijah,  who,  though  little, 
is  "  sizable  "  enough  to  meet  her  wants,  will  make  the  acquaint 
ance  of  those  who  like  a  book  that  is  not  over-intellectualized 
nor  yet  lacking  in  soundness  of  heart  and  penetrating  vision 
into  human  nature.  "  Sally,  Mrs.  Tubbs  "  will  furnish  a  hearty 
laugh  and  a  quickened  sensibility. 

BOSTON  TRANSCRIPT  says: 

As  a  brief  character-sketch,  "  Sally,  Mrs.  Tubbs  "  deserves  no 
little  praise  for  its  geniality  and  its  humor. 

BOSTON  HERALD  says : 

This  short  story  of  180  pages  is  captivating  from  start  to  finish, 
and  the  masculine  reader  takes  off  his  hat,  and  the  feminine 
reader  courtesies,  to  this  matron  of  the  tubs,  with  her  homely 
heroism  and  true  kindness  of  heart. 

J2mo.    Picture  Cover.    Postpaid,  $  LOO. 


Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


LOAN  DEPT 


2'71 


LD2lA-50m-2, 
>2001slO)476—  A-32 


(P200H 


